Escapism junkie Philosopy

I’ve realized by now that sadness fits better on me than happiness. It’s become a comfortable emotion, coming to me like rain on a dark summer night.  Despite this, I always find myself thinking, "I’d rather have a boring happy ending than be a beautiful tragedy".

I think I just lost the part of me that always kept an extra ounce of anger and doubt at my disposal, and despite this stubborn-immune-to-Robitussin-cough still lingering in my chest, I’ve never felt better in days.