Tsay was a strange lad; he liked to be sad.

A boy of only twenty with short cropped hair and a dirty shirt, he gained pleasure from the feeling of sadness. He’d tried explaining it to his friends a long time ago, but he’d just been labelled a goth and left well alone. He wasn’t a goth, but the loneliness suited him perfectly. It meant he could be sad all the time.

He wore a cheap, grubby shirt most days, and baggy combat trousers. He didn’t leave his clothes as dirty as they were on purpose: he was strange, but he wasn’t messy. He had, however, grown quite lazy now he had his own apartment, and so the washing machine rarely worked more than once a week.

He lived alone, as anyone who knew him would expect. Although he had what some would call friends, they were far too amiable to be seen on a regular basis. In any case, a solitary existence fed his fixation quite nicely.

Tsay worked, of course, as many of us do. He sat in the smallest cube available in a depressingly grey building on the drearier side of town. Surprisingly enough, he worked with some passion, and had more than once been offered a more comfortable existence within the business. Naturally, he turned these down, what could be more satisfying than the pain of the first floor?

Tsay would wander down the street, looking at the arguments that parents had with their children as he walked past, at troubled couples slowly drifting further apart from one another, or just at the “for sale” signs that littered most of the shop windows of his little town. He would drift ever onwards, a small smile flittering across his lips, and disappearing just as quickly, as he wandered past the pains of the world.

He’d go out in the rain, but he certainly didn’t wait for it, as most people thought. He preferred to see other people miserable, for this brought him down faster than anything else, and although rain had certain depressing factors to it, it was far too refreshing to be all that special.

He would often think about his strange habits as he walked, which would depress him further, which in turn brought a little smile to his face. This of course was a strange feeling, being so happy being sad, as the happiness overpowered the sadness, ruining both.

A feeling of happiness was, of course, inevitable. However, such a happy feeling quickly reminded him of his youth, of the perfect parents in a perfect relationship, who’d created a perfect family. And the one day which brought a perfect storm, and took it all away. These thoughts even he could not stand to contemplate. The sadness brought a refuge that no happiness could overcome.

And so perfect sadness was his perfect happiness, and that suited him just fine.

Tsay was a strange lad; he liked to be sad.