When Sadness Is At Your Door Novels & Stories

The double doors closed behind me with a final thud. My steps are slow, each one heavy with the weight of the loss. We tried everything, but he didn’t make it. His face, the grief, these images haunt me as I move down the empty hallway. Reaching my office, I fumble for my keys, my hands trembling. The door closes softly, sealing me in the quiet room. I sit at my desk, my head falling into my hands. Then the tears come, hot and unchecked, as I relive every desperate moment of the surgery.

he held my gaze, and that sadness just poured into my soul. "You will have these memories from time to time and it's okay. If working helps to make you feel better, then I will give you all the space that you need. Just remember that I'm here for you. If you want to talk, no matter how young I am, I'm here."

🍁🍁🍁🍁 Sadness isn't fun, but it is comfortable. 🍁 Happiness is fleeting and unstable 🍁🍁🍁🍁 DAVID'S POV Crystal has been in a coma for days now. I don’t know how long it’ll take for her to wake up, but every second feels like a year. Watching her lie there, unmoving, with machines doing what her body can’t, gnaws at my sanity.

So I pick up my keys, then zoom off to the office. No sooner than I step into my office that I see the withered rose painting hanging on the wall. I stop in my tracks as I remember everything Mr. D has told me about my sad choices – being melancholic. And all those moments come flooding into my mind like some panoramic view of the events in my life. "I see sadness," says the voice over my shoulders that has my head turn abruptly in his direction. He may speak like a digital machine, but a floodgate seems to open up at the sound of his voice, sending my tears forward.

“ I’ve got it.” I enter my room and stand still at the door for a moment. I take in the room for what could be the last time and my eyes move to the adjoining door between our rooms. Everything that had taken place by and behind that door rushes to me and I fight hard to suppress the sadness that washes over me.

which filled me with a sudden surge of urgency, But as I went further, I found myself sinking into a pool of depression as nothing seemed to ring a bell, not even my photo with Oliver could spark a light in my mind, A great sense of sadness overwhelmed me instead, which threatened to break me down, dampening my mood, even as I swam in a sea of depression, which made me toss the photo book away, As those feelings lingered, I heard a knock on the door, thinking it was a maid, I responded dryly, "Come in," Immediately the door opened, I got up on my feet, as I forced a smile to my face, to make the sadness that had gripped my heart, since I didn't want anyone to worry about me,

I walked so lazily towards the door with heavy steps and I stretched my hand forward to twist the knob only to find out that it was working out of order. I fiddled with the knob for quite some minutes but it was so difficult to open and I was running out of time and patience. I don’t know why I’m getting so emotional over a broken door. I feel like even the inanimate things know I’m a loser and the odd one out in the entire pack or it’s just that situation when you’ve had a pretty bad day and you were strong only to burst into tears with the littlest things. Like now. I sniffled my tears trying hard not to let them drop, my chest keeps getting heavier as if a weight had been dropped on it an

“Grief is like‍ that. It‍ leaves loose ends. Things that don’t make sense. Doors you can’t open.” His voice had c‍hanged. It got lowe‌r‍. More personal. He was switching g⁠ears, from Mr. Fix-It to⁠ Deep James. Th⁠is w‌as t‍he act wh‍ere he sha‌red a pain to make y‌ou share your⁠s. “Door⁠s⁠ you can’t ope‍n,” I repeat⁠ed,⁠ pl‍aying along‍.

Ivan prompted, his voice low. "And yet, I keep looking toward the door," I admitted, the words spilling out before I could stop them. "I keep waiting for him to stomp in here, slam his ledger on the table, and tell me I'm doing everything wrong. The house is too quiet. It feels wrong. I thought I’d be happy, but I just feel numb and really really sad."

I couldn’t take the way the room felt heavy with loss, like it was pressing down on my chest every time I breathed. I finally moved, just barely, when his footsteps lingered. He was waiting by the door, hoping I would get up. Then I didn’t. He let out a loud sigh, turned, and left…..shutting the door gently, like even anger wouldn’t make him disrespect me. I burst into tears right away. The crying felt endless. My body was already exhausted, but the tears kept coming like they were deeper than my sadness. Like something in me needed to break before it could survive.