I have been contemplating this simple statement for a long time, because I spent so many of my formative years being desperately sad. Losing even just one person can do that, but I kept losing. Left and right, people I loved and could not imagine living without were being taken away for reasons I could not understand, much less accept. So much so that I became physically terrified of my phone. Each call from home carried with it the possibility of a death. So I started hiding my phone away, purposefully leaving it behind in classes or stores and then desperately running back to retrieve it because even though I wanted to hide from the news, I also knew I could not. I knew that the not knowing would have been worse. That was how I lived from 2006 through 2011. Sad and scared.
So then, surely, when the sadness finally dissipates and you begin to see each new day as more than just an extension of pain, shouldn’t you be happy?
I have no idea. Obviously.