Sometimes I'm Sad

Sometimes I’m sad.

Sometimes I’m so overwhelmingly sad that I can’t bring myself to tell the people that I love because it’s the type of sadness that comes without reason or name. It can’t easily be quantified by heartbreak, loss, restlessness or self-doubt.

It’s simply -and not so simply- a chest that is simultaneously heavy and hollow, and eyes that are exhausted from tears that haven’t been shed.

It’s a sadness that sends me down the dark hallways of my own mind and makes me long for the people, places, and feelings I’ve left for better despite the knowledge that everything is fine.

Even when the sun is shining and my favorite voices are coming through the stereo.

It’s a sadness that burns guilty because I have everything I have ever wanted and worked so hard to get, but sometimes part of me thinks something is missing and the rest of me can’t put a finger on it.

It’s a sadness that hits without warning and gives no clues as to why it’s there.

It flirts across the bar but doesn’t tell you its name. It only stays for a while and once it’s gone, you wonder if it was ever really there at all.

Not so much as a trace on the glass where its fingerprints should be.

It’s a sadness that hasn’t been diagnosed or prescribed. It isn’t the backlash of someone else’s lack of love or the remnants of something broken. It isn’t struggling to get out of bed in the morning. It isn’t isolation, lashing out, or self-destruction.

It isn’t the type of sadness that has a name.

It’s simply -and not so simply- a chest that is simultaneously heavy and hollow, and eyes that are exhausted from tears that haven’t been shed.

It’s a sadness that has no name and to talk about it feels like I’m taking away from the sadness that does – heartbreak, loss, restlessness and self- doubt.

To talk about a sadness that hits hard but leaves quickly feels like I’m taking away from the people who can’t treat their sadness like a weekend affair. Sadness that lies beside them night after night like the ghost of a love taken too soon, no matter how hard they fight to get away from it.

It’s a sadness that feels selfish. Because I already have so much and sometimes my heart decides it isn’t enough despite my brain knowing just how enough it is.

It’s a sadness that feels like a liar because I’m the first one to say that you don’t owe anyone an explanation for feeling what you’re feeling but the last one to admit that something feels wrong when I can’t find a evidence to support it.

Sometimes I’m so overwhelmingly sad that I can’t bring myself to tell the people that I love because it’s the type of sadness that everyone gets sometimes. It’s a sadness that feels so common that to speak of it would be uncommon.

Sometimes I’m sad even when nothing is wrong and I know that I’m ok.

Even when the sun is shining and my favorite voices are coming through the stereo.