Some days, I just wake up sad. It wasn't brought on by a dream or a bad night's sleep. Something in my soul is simply overwhelmed by sadness. Those days I feel the most needy, and the most silent. Nothing will come out. It's not even that it wouldn't make sense if my babbling starting coming out. I rarely make a whole lot of sense. It's just that words won't do it justice. On these days, I am overwhelmed. I cannot communicate.
But those are the days I need the most. Every drop of sweetness is a soothing balm; it's a splash of light and color on my incredibly dark day. Those days are like black holes, and each kind word, each unexpected sweetness, each hand reached out keeps me from falling into it completely.
I wish I knew how to keep those days away, how to dismiss them when I open my eyes in the morning, but I don't. And they go away, even if no hand is reached out. Then I simply fall in, and cry the sadness away. It cannot stay forever, I am too full of happiness. I have found too much strength inside. I am stronger, I am brighter, than the sadness. It passes, like all things. But I can't keep them away. They come. And they pass.
The only question is how. Maybe I can't express the darkness of those days, but I can reach out. I can ask for help. I usually don't do that. I actually try not to. I take a strange pride in being so self sustained. But I'm not. I need people. I need encouragement. I need someone to tell me to stiffen up my upper lip because I've got this. I need someone to give me a hug and tell me it'll all be okay. I need... help. And it's okay to ask for it.
I never want to be a drain, to suck the life out of someone. I never want to be a needy friend. But to try and pretend that I don't have needs is simply laughably proud of me. And pride has never suited me well. I find that it chafes far worse than sadness.
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