It's a strange kind of sadness, this. It doesn't stop you from going about your life. A normal day, a normal week, a normal month. The daily chores at home, the tedious work at office, the daily social interactions, everything is as it used to be. No crippling pain. No hopeless impasse that stops you from moving forward. No sinking feeling that sucks the life out of you every time you see some happy love. You feel it's gone. You've managed to deal with it, finally. And just when you have managed not to notice it long enough, it makes it presence felt. One day you're sitting in office, formatting an excel, and you'll notice you've been crying. When did that happen? Last you remember you were thinking about colons and semicolons.
It's a strange kind of sadness, this. It'll give you the permission to go to the party but expect you be back before the party begins.
It's a strange kind of sadness, this. It'll give you the permission to go to the party but expect you be back before the party begins.