It makes me sick, the way sadness is addicting. The way I cant stop. Sadness is familiar. Its comfortable and its easy in a sense that it comes naturally to me. But everything else about it is hard. The way my body aches with self-hatred. The way my mind spins and spins with hopeless thoughts. The way it poisons everything I do, every relationship I have. Yet its addicting, because I know sadness, and I know it very well. And theres a sort of comfort in that, like being home after a trip or sleeping in your own bed after being away. Theres just a sense that this is where I belong. This is how its supposed to be.