Beautiful Sadness

Is it possible to be inspired by sadness? To have one's heart warmed by their own grief?

To find that the thought of just falling into nothingness one final time brings peace?

I guess I just don't know what happiness is any more...I've become so accustomed to quiet sorrow that anything else just feels.....meaningless.

Yet at the same time I feel empty because of my lack of happiness.

I have times when I smile and laugh - but it's never out of joy. It's only when I find something funny...to laugh out of sheer happiness is something I have not known for a long time.

During the day, I'm usually too busy thinking about it to really notice, but at night, when I'm shutting things down and turning in for the night it just...hits me.

The fact that despite all I've done, I can't seem to feel or see one shred of actual, tangible progress; the fact that day after day I still exist in here; the fact that night after night I remain alone...it all just hits me.

And I realize that during the day, I'm not really happy.

I'm just putting it on the back burner.

But my sorrow remains there, no matter what, permeating all I do and experience.

And somehow I find comfort in that.

I find the will to keep going in that.

I find beauty in that.

And so, on one level, I am actually content to be perpetually sorrowful deep down - and honestly I really wouldn't want that taken away from me (unless I was given good reason to - which, so far, I haven't had...I dunno if I ever have, really).

I wish I could find a reason to actually be happy, without faking it or only semi-happy.

Ah well.

Beautiful Sadness