an addict

It makes us sick. The way sadness is addicting. The way you can't stop. Sadness is familiar. It's comfortable and it's easy in a sense that it comes naturally to some of us, But everything else about it is hard. The way our bodies ache with self hatred. The way our minds spin and spin with hopeless thoughts. The way it poisons everything we do, every relationship we have. Yet in all that, it's addicting, because we know sadness and it knows us very well and there's a sort of comfort in that; like being home after a trip or sleeping in your own bed after being away, there's just a sense of this is where I belong. . .