Open When You Are Sad Novels & Stories

The rain becomes my silent confidante, listening to the whispers of my sorrow and offering solace in its gentle embrace. Lost in the rhythmic cadence of the rain, I allow myself to feel the depth of my emotions. I let the grief wash over me, allowing each tear to release a small portion of the hurt that weighs me down. It's a cathartic release, a necessary step towards healing the shattered pieces of my heart.

Sarah It felt like drifting through an endless dream, each moment stretching into eternity. After my firstborn's death, grief enveloped me like a suffocating shroud. I retreated, closing my heart and mind to the outside world. Joy became a foreign concept, a distant memory I could no longer grasp. Nothing could penetrate the fog of my sorrow because deep down, I knew I was fundamentally broken—I was not okay. Just like then, my mind feels closed off, wrapped in a thick layer of ice. Driving aimlessly, stopping several times to watch the setting sun.

Will my mates also turn their backs on me? Overwhelmed by sorrow, I hastily seek solace in a nearby bathroom. With a sense of relief, I shut the door behind me and collapse onto the floor, allowing my emotions to pour out in a flood of tears. The overwhelming sense of inadequacy and the fear of losing the support of my mates intensify my anguish, leaving me feeling utterly helpless.

It feels like a moment of healing. My aunt holds me close, whispering comforting words into my ear. "It's okay to feel sad sometimes," she says. "Remembering the past can be painful, but it's also beautiful." I nod, my tears slowly subsiding. "I just miss them so much," I say, my voice quiet. "I know," my aunt says, giving me a squeeze. "But they would want you to be happy. They would want you to remember the good times." I take a deep breath, and a smile slowly begins to spread across my face. I know she's right.

Placing my arms on my knees, I lower my head, overcome by an immense sadness, and begin to cry. I strive to be strong, to not let their actions affect me, but it's too difficult. I wish I could play, run, and scream with everyone, but no one wants me around, and it hurts deeply. "Look sis, someone over there is sad," I hear a gentle voice say. I'm drawn to the voice; it sounds pleasant. However, I pay it no attention and continue my cascade of tears. Suddenly, my tears cease, and I feel warm arms enveloping me in a comforting embrace. I

LEVI’S POV Before You Go by Lewis Capaldi “I fell by the wayside like everyone else. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, but I was just kidding myself. Our every moment, I start to replace. ‘Cause now that they’re gone, all I hear are the words that I needed to say.” I was singing while I was breaking the shell of an egg. I was cooking some sunny-side up egg, fried rice, and hotdog for breakfast.

*EMILY* As I walked through the door of my apartment, a wave of overwhelming sadness crashed over me. The weight of my burden pressed heavily upon my shoulders, threatening to shatter the fragile facade of strength I had painstakingly constructed. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision as I stumbled towards the couch, my legs buckling beneath the weight of my sorrow.

Everything has a reason? There are moments and events in life that we cannot control. So when sadness knocks, let it in, but don't close the door. Leave your chest open so she can get out. The sadness that gets trapped becomes bitterness. It's better to turn sadness into tears, because tears help wash the soul, like rain washes the earth, and then presents us with a beautiful rainbow.

My arms circle her by reflex, and my chest tightens. “I know you’ll never shed a tear in front of me, so I’ll tell you—it’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to have days when you don’t want to get out of bed. When you want to shout at the world, but nobody’s listening. If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here.” Her voice is muffled by my shirt, but forceful. And then she stands on her tiptoes and presses her palms to my chest and kisses me on the cheek.

ASHER * * Whenever I go through a bad break-up, there's usually three things that comes in mind to do. 1) Crash out. Just cry and listen to Olivia Rodrigo and ghost everyone for weeks 2) Drink till stupor. 3) Fuck I took the third option. Now there's something called Sober sex, you fuck the closest person around when you're sad, depressed or angry. I don't want to crash out, and I don't want to drink... sex is the only option left.