They say there’s a time for everything
and I can’t help but ask why.
No. I get it. Not everything is perfect. In fact, nothing is.
But why does there have to be a time to be sad?
Why, when I am sad, do I linger on it?
On times of mourning, moments where things didn’t quite turn out, on love’s misgivings and missed opportunities?
On bittersweet goodbyes.
This all sounds so… ordinary, so colloquial. Why do I feel it must be anything more?
Here, now, things are simple.
I won’t complicate the black by finding the silver lining.
I won’t eradicate the darkness.
This isn’t all there is, and that can stay in the back of my mind, if it likes.
Maybe sadness isn’t easy, but I’m getting pretty good at it.
And when the time for cheerful giddiness comes, I’ll be ready.
But I won’t rush it.
This is a time to be sad.
This is a place to be sad.