You sit close, tremors matching tremors. One mind races with manic verses; the other drags through depression’s fog. But the chords catch the words anyway. Pain becomes lyrics, shame becomes melody no filters, just truth turned into sound. Some sessions are pure fire: hours vanish in perfect harmony. Others collapse one of you dissociates, the other hates every note. Yet even the wreckage feeds the song. You learn each other’s breaking points like chord changes. You forgive the days no one can show up. The song waits. When it’s done and you play it back, something whole emerges from your separate broken pieces. For that moment, the illness loses. You made beauty together, and that feels like love fierce, fragile, and undeniably real. 💞 @LittleMonsters @LadyGaga