“You know those nights when you go to bed feeling like shit hoping that the morning to come is going to be better but you just end up feeling more like shit?
Every night, every morning, every bus ride, every train ride, routine is not even a word to describe it. Maybe I’m just sad. The kind of sad that takes a whole lot of time. The kind of sad that makes you never want to know what being happy feels like any more just so things wont go bad and you won’t have to start being sad all over again.”
That was how I felt 5 months ago. Sad. And the very same happiness I thought I didn’t want to feel ever again, came wooh-ing me with answers to questions I thought I didn’t want to hear, slight efforts I didn’t want to notice, genuineness I didn’t want to believe, but yet still I welcomed it in. And now I’m not so sure why because I think I’m becoming sad all over again.