Unhappy

I am unhappy. And no, not because I want to be aesthetically pleasing to the younger generation. But because I feel actual sadness. And actual sadness is a real feeling.

Because of this feeling, I push others away... when in reality, this is when I need them the most. My family tries to get this feeling out of my body, then they give up when they realize it has engulfed my entire being. I feel this sadness for them.

Everything that comes my way continues making me have this horrid feeling. But because I was sad in the beginning, it’s almost as if nothing can make me happy. I try, I really do. I put on that fake smile that everyone wants to see, but of course, deep down, I’m not fooling anyone. And it’s not fooling me.

Unhappiness is depressing. It tears my insides apart to where it’s the only feeling I have nowadays. And because of this, I’m incapable of making anyone around me happy. So... we’re all unhappy.