Sorrow

The sadness that did not lift when circumstances changed.

A loss that was not dramatic but was felt deeply over a long time.

When you mourned something that others did not think was worth mourning.

The quiet ache that accompanied an ordinary day without cause.

Sorrow that came from witnessing rather than experiencing directly.

When you understood what had been lost only after it was gone.

A persistent sadness that lived in the background of better years.

The grief that was not for a death but for an ending of another kind.

When sorrow arrived gently rather than all at once.

The tenderness that came from knowing how fragile things were.

A period of mourning for something you had never quite had.

When you let yourself feel what you had been postponing.

Sorrow as a form of love for what was no longer present.

The weight of knowing that some things cannot be undone.

When sadness deepened your understanding of what mattered.

A season of muted color and slower movement through the world.

The sorrow that came from a responsibility you could not fulfill.

When you wept not from pain but from the beauty of what was passing.

The accumulated small sadnesses that only showed themselves at once.

Sorrow that did not need to be explained or justified to be real.