**When Will the Sadness End?**

 Today I sat by the window, watching the rain as it painted streaks on the glass, mirroring the tears that ran silently down my face. The world outside was blurred, much like my life in recent months. Ever since I had been trapped in a relentless cycle of sadness. It clung to me, like a heavy fog i couldn’t escape. 

Each morning, I would wake with the faint hope that today might be different — that the crushing weight on my chest might lift, even if just a little. But every day was the same. The emptiness in the house, the stillness of the rooms, the absence of voices — it was unbearable.

I wondered when the sadness would end. People told me time would heal, that grief was a process, but what they didn’t understand was how endless it felt. How each moment would feel like stretched on like for eternity.

One afternoon, my land lord neighbor Cavan knocked on the door, with a parcel of sandwiches in his hand. “I just wanted to check in on you,” Cavan said softly, his voice full of compassion & concern.

I let him in, though he had no energy for conversation. We sat in silence for a while, the rain pattering against the window.

Finally, Cavan spoke. “You know, when I feel like the sadness would never end. But one day, I realized something — the sadness didn’t disappear, but it changed. It became a part of me, but it didn’t control me anymore.”

I stared at the sandwiches, the vibrant aromatic smell a stark contrast to the gloom he felt inside. “How long did it take?” I asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“There’s no set time,” Cavaan replied. “But it does get lighter. And in the meantime, you just have to take it one day at a time. You won’t forget anything, but you’ll learn to carry the sadness differently.”

I wasn’t sure I believed him, but as the rain began to lighten outside, I  felt a flicker of hope. Maybe the sadness wouldn’t end completely, but perhaps, someday, I would learn to live with it.

And that, for now, was enough.

Jacob M