Tonight, Ice told me that I'm the saddest person he knows. I indulge in more sadness than I am entitled, and spend more time sulking than people with bigger, actual predicaments. I know I'm hardly the happiest person in the world, but this still took me by surprise. I have always thought- and, yes, with gratitude- that other people have it worse than I do-- how come I am sadder than them?
It is possible, Ice said, that I am clinically depressed. Apparently, I somehow manage to transmogrify even the happiest of situations into an intense discussion about death. While I cannot help but acknowledge this obsession as true, I don't think I'm quite capable of explaining it just yet. All I know is that I feel for Ice. Imagine being with someone who constantly has a dark, ominous cloud over her head. I'm not sure he realizes what he has gotten himself into.
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