A different kind of sad

There’s the kind of sad that goes back to haunt you. The kind of sad that hurts you every time. You don’t know where it came from; you don’t know the reason why it’s there in the first place. It just… hurts.

There’s a kind of sad that you’re used to. The kind of sad that when it’s there, it hurts, but it doesn’t affect you as much. The more that you feel this… this sad feeling, your heart numbs to it more. It gets used to feeling pain.

There’s a kind of sad that no one else can heal except you. The kind of sad that cannot be healed by words from other people. It cannot be destroyed by anyone else but yourself. You are the only one who has the power over this. No one else has this power.

There’s a kind of sad that eats you up whenever you move. The kind of sad that feels like poison to your heart. The more you try to not think about it, the more it comes back. If you do think about it, it still hurts. You cannot escape.

There’s a kind of sad that no one knows where it came from. It could be from a past tragedy that we have forgotten, or a recent event that we’re currently coping on. Whatever the source is, we cannot identify it. Even if we think we did, it still doesn’t feel like it’s the only reason why it hurts.

There’s a kind of sad that makes you write things like this. You might think it’s bullshit — at some point, it can and will be — but you continue anyway. It’s a way for you to release the hurt. A way for you to cope with your current situation.

There’s a kind of sad that’s different. Different because it’s unlike any other hurt. You may or may not know where it hurts. You may or may not know the reason. It may or may not go away.

But it’s still there, somewhere.