Why Do I Find Such Beauty In Sadness?

The question suggests there isn’t beauty in every emotion, that there isn’t something significantly precious about feeling, that sadness doesn’t command a sort of cathartic pleasure for the crier. I see beauty in every emotion, but sadness—oh, sadness—I have made friends with her aesthetic. The inherent beauty in sadness suggests a passion for the elements of life. It suggests meaning and care. It suggests connection with ourselves. It suggests connection to things outside of ourselves.

Sadness is the release of things lost, a desire for what might not be. I understand sadness more than I do any other emotion. It encompasses the whole being. And if you let it, it will encompass your whole life. Its intensity is like no other (well, maybe anger). It is beautiful. It is vulnerability and strength. It shows its face at the heart of passion. It needs no understanding nor desire. It simply exists on its own.

Sadness is beautiful because it shows there are things in this life worth being sad about, worth caring about. Without sadness, how could we know the depths of joy? Without sadness, how could you know the depths of your love, your appreciation, your wants, and your needs? Sadness demands depth and consideration. It demands you to express such passion, such intensity, such depth, and such reflection. And it will continue to appear until you do.

Sadness is beautiful. It encompasses your senses. It releases discomfort and pain. It gives unknown significance to people, events, places, and things. It tells of your love. It is beauty.