Several people have asked me why I chose to write a novel about depression and suicide, especially involving a main character who is gay.
The answer is fairly simple: I wrote about it because it’s real. Millions of people (including me) suffer from depression every single day. It’s almost an impossible thing to explain to someone who has never been afflicted by it, but depressed people are the same as “normal” people. We have hopes, dreams, fears, goals and we fall in love just like everyone else. We are all human, and we all want love.
To me, this is a story about unconditional love. Because when you truly love someone, it doesn’t matter what’s “wrong” with them. It doesn’t matter if they’re depressed. It doesn’t matter if they’re flawed. It doesn’t matter what gender they are. It doesn’t matter how fat/thin, short/tall they are or what other people think about them. All of this is trivial. None of it matters because you love them and accept them exactly the way they are. I believe that is true love.