I’ve been really happy recently. I’m not entirely sure why, but I like the feeling. It’s bubbly and warm, and the kind of thing you want to spread around. It’s almost made me a more open, generous person, which makes me even happier. I enjoy what I do more. I find more meaning in what I do. And that also feeds on itself and brings more happiness.
But if it is possible for such peace to be contaminated, then I think it might be. Unfortunately, feeling such happiness has brought me back into touch with other positive emotions, which I did admittedly try to prevent myself from feeling because they inevitably came tinged with a bit of regret. Camaraderie, for example, is tinged with the regret of it ending. Love is tinged with pain, especially in instances such as now. So I might not be as over it as I thought I was. Hmm. Well, they say the first step to recovery is acceptance. And then there’s that girl in my PHL100 tutorial… Eh, let’s not go there. I think what it is is that I’m finally happy, but have nobody really to share it with. I have spiritual and emotional wealth at last, but nobody to share in my enjoyment of life. Just life. Not the satisfaction of learning or the thrill of a fight, but the simple, bone-deep pleasure of living.
Just when I find the one thing that really matters, I’m faced with the fact that that’s really all I’ve got. And so, my joy is tinged blue.