Do I Love Sadness

Do I love being sad? Or is sadness the one emotion I truly understand—the one that teaches me the most? I have moments, fragments of time, where I look back and cry. Some tears come with joy, but others are steeped in sadness. When life is bitter, I find myself strangely content in realizing how awful it is, as if knowing the depth of the pain is better than being oblivious to it. Sadness has a way of anchoring me. It strips away illusions and forces me to face the rawness of life. It’s in those moments—when I feel the weight of everything—that I seem to learn the most. Memories resurface, some sharp and painful, others achingly sweet, and they remind me of how much certain moments mattered. Maybe it’s not sadness itself that I crave, but the clarity it brings. It makes me feel alive, aware of both the beauty and the sorrow that make up this chaotic existence. Even when it hurts, I know it’s real, and maybe that’s what I value most.