I tell my best friend I don’t know why I’m still sad
That it feels wrong to feel so much for someone that I don’t think felt much about me
She tells me it’s easier to be sad than to let yourself feel better
And she’s right cause it’s easier to miss you than hate you
Easier to be sad than to be happy and forget
or forgive
I’m more comfortable being sad cause then no one can take happiness from me
There’s nothing left to lose in sadness, except for the comfort of it all
And isn’t that, beautiful, too?