My current romance project has me thinking, why did I lean so heavily into my stories of grief and loss? Of pain and trials? Certainly, it makes for a good story simply because of the conflict that comes of that, but it was something more. I was working under the assumption that a sad story is a good story.
I understand that not everyone is going to think the same thing when it comes to the big labels. But what frustrates me is the fact that these things have to be categorized so rigidly in the first place and then when your experience is different from the ‘typical’ affliction, you are an outlier and then it is more difficult being understood.
I’m wading through the big sad and I can see the end of the ocean – but I’m not sure I want to get out just yet. It’s a strange kind of addiction – sadness – when you’ve finally learnt to live your life around it you don’t really want to say goodbye to it.