He ask me about my sadness.

It's not shaking and crying and screaming until your throat burns. It's not tidal waves of emotions, quickly drowing you. It's not blood running down your wrist, staining your flesh red. It's not popping pills, and drinking whiskey. It's laying in your bed at three in the morning, surrounded by darkness. And staring at the wall, it's in heavy feeling that settles deep in your chest. It's feeling guilty that you'd stayed in bed all day. Yet again but not having the energy to get up. It's wanting to do better, to be better, but not knowing how anymore. Most of all, it's the " Out if placed " feeling. As though you just don't belong here anymore, and your time is up.