The idea of happiness, being happy, content, a deep sigh of ‘life is good’ is something that escapes me, I have moments of glee or thankfulness but overall I’m not happy. Consistently wanting more, thinking of him…remembering those few and far between happy times. That may be why I have an unhealthy connection to him, because that was when I was happy.
Longing for a fulfilling position, trying to take steps and be happy in this matrix I feel like I’m living in, breathing in, existing but not really. Then I remember, it occurs to me, I understand that what I’ve always known ‘there is no spoon’ the happiness I seek must come from within, nobody can make me whole, he didn’t, no matter what I tell myself. I was restless at times, bored with no having my dream job, career, family, not having finished my book. There is no spoon. I still reach out to him, I still long for his voice, and smell and as I digress I need to remind myself, over and over again apparently, that while I was happy with him I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t content, I’ m not sure I ever have been. The older I get the more I realize I need to be whole, be happy, be me. I should be my own catalyst. There is no spoon but this is all real. No matter how much I pretend everything is ok, it’s not and never will be until I am truly happy.
