The Art of Healing a Heart

My dear reader, Happiness is meant to be experienced; sadness is meant to be written, and read. Maybe it’s my inner Russian cynic or hopeless romantic, but I find it dauntingly difficult to write when I’m happy. There is something about defining happy feelings into words, that seems like defying happiness in itself. In most cases, I would reserve writing to my moments of despair. Filling up notebooks with my fears, sharing my sorrows on Instagram stories, or scrabbling my sadness on the notes app; misery truly loves (written) company. The sole fact of knowing I could express my emotions on (digital) paper made me feel like they were valid, and that my experiences were valid too. Or even more so, that me, existing as an emotive human being in this often inherently inexplicable world, was valid.