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Harry wanted to continue telling me about why his therapist diagnosed him with depression.

As I said, Nina rang my doorbell every Thursday. I made sure not to schedule anything on Thursday nights. I couldn't imagine anything could be better.

The school year was ending. I was exhausted, and decided I could afford to take the summer off. I played softball, hung out at my apartment complex's pool, and went out a few nights a week for a beer.

I remember it like it was yesterday. It was a Tuesday in mid-July. I'd just sat down to watch the baseball All-Star Game when my phone rang.

"Hi Harry, it's Beth. I'm about a mile up the road. How about I pick up a pizza, and some beers?"

"Sure. I'll see you in a bit."

Maureen, you have to remember back then everyone's number was in the phone book. Here's the other thing, I racked my mind, but I didn't know anyone named Beth. Perhaps, it was a coincidence and a wrong number. I'd find out soon enough.

Forty-five minutes later, my doorbell rang. Opening the door, standing ...

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