There are days I feel like shit.
When I think a little too hard about how I’ll make ends meet in old age against the backdrop of ever-increasing rents and inaccessible home ownership.
When I see friends post about their children after my own dreams were crushed. When they remind me they have a partner to go home to, and I have an empty bed.
When I get worn down the threats, mockery, or assault of complete strangers, turning everyday activities into minefields.
Much like there are good break-up songs to listen to, there are days that call for consuming fiction with bleak endings.
There’s a real taboo with such endings in fiction outside of horror; it’s perceived as a downer. To me it’s always having things end on an uplifting note that feels isolating.
Don’t get me wrong; I need happy content too. But just as I’m sometimes in the mood for sad music, some days I need sad stories too.