the only thing I know

late night ramblings. basically what I feel.

I know how to be sad. Sadness is easily achieved for me, I fall into it with ease, and I know that I can never fail at being sad. You see, I don’t know how to be happy, not properly. I understand the concept, but the execution has always been a struggle for me. There is so much room for error in happiness; so much to be unhappy about. You see, what people don’t realise it that happiness is not a thing itself but simply an absence of sadness, and so you cannot feel happiness. It is simply a relief from the one true emotion in life, which is pain. And I have an underling love for my sadness, for my pain, and so I cannot be rid of it. And so I must accept that I will never be completely happy. Because, not only do I know how to be sad, I know how to be completely sad. And I miss it. I miss feeling so much. I miss the overwhelming desperation; the emotion you can’t escape because it becomes you. I have never felt to the same extent as to what I felt when I was at my worst. I will never be as happy as I was sad, and so I long to be sad again �" just to feel completely. I know that I will never be completely happy �" happiness is so fickle, and difficult to grasp onto in our constant strive for the perfect life. However, I know how to be completely sad. Sadness is consuming, and that consumption is so easily confused with fulfilment. I feel fulfilled when I feel consumed with sadness, I am feeling to my full capacity, and what I am feeling is no longer of concern. And so this is why I long for my depression. I welcome it with open arms, just so I can feel again. I beckon the tidal wave, knowing it is my destruction. Because my destruction is the only thing I know. I am familiar with the pieces of my life as they fall apart around me, because I’d rather be fulfilled with pain, than left chasing after a happiness I may never know.