There’s a smooth easy feeling to sadness. I find anger to be distasteful. Vehement reactions that raise my ire just leave me feeling spent, like I wasted a substantial fraction of my life drawn up in a taught knot of energy. Blech, eff that!
But sadness is calm. Like a velvet coating on the world. Dark but unobtrusive. It’s there but blends, fades into everything.
I’d rather be mournful than angry.
I’d rather be melancholy than indignant.
Do certain moods just fit better on my shoulders?
Sadness feels comfortable. I don’t mind it really. In fact, I rather welcome it.
Aren’t these great words. It’s almost as if we have flavors of words like this to suit just the right type of sadness. Silly humans.