Sometimes, in the midst of something I would stop and ponder, “Why is this happening to me?” Age doesn’t define your maturity and having gone through quite a couple of things in the past few years, I learnt how to be somewhat melancholic.

I endured pain, death, depression and many other indescribable form of agony a human can experience. Life happens to everyone but it doesn’t turn out the way how we want things to be. One wrong turn and it’s a road down a labyrinth of suffering.

I never understood how people could say, “Don’t worry, one day it will all be fine.” I mean, how could things be fine when it will never go back to how it was? And the next question I would ask is, “Is change inevitable in order to grow up in this world?”

At some point in time, I gave up feeling sad because overtime, it had become a habit to be sad. There would always be that ache in my heart no matter how hard I tried to move on. I guess that human nature for you; the more you try to move on, the harder it is to remove the feelings.

No matter how happy I become, how cheerful and wide my smile is, there would be times where I feel alone, completely alone even if I’m surrounded with people. It has become a part of me to be sad, that the ache would be there. The nagging feeling refuses to leave and I am robbed of my cheeriness.

Isn’t this what will happen to people who have been sad once?

They become a tad more introspective. It's nice to think about happiness, how much it means to you because the more sorrows you went through, the harder it is to find happiness in your life again. But then, the more you think about things in life, you start to overthink. You start over analyzing every single matter, you ponder over every word and sentence someone said about you. You start to question every friendship of yours and doubt yourself.

They become much caring too. After experiencing first-hand what hurt is, they know how it feels like to have no one there for them. That’s why they try their best to be there for others because they don’t want others to go through what they did. It like feeling abandoned, deserted somewhere and shrouded in darkness. You have no idea how to get out because you can’t see. All you feel is fear rising up your throat, and a sense of hopelessness coming strong and before long, all you want to do is curl up and settle in the darkness.

They become more poetic, just like me. I never had a fancy for words and writings until 10 months back. I didn’t discover the power of writing and how it makes you feel, that maybe, at some point in life, things might actually get better. The way alphabets are strung together to form words which describe the very feeling in you is not a skill mastered overnight. Only people who appreciate poetry will learn and only they will feel to their bones the meaning of the word.

And at the end of the day, I guess it’s okay to feel sad, and scars don’t fade because they are proof of the physical pain you lived in, a reminder of the strength within you.