Thursday, November 12, 2009
The other night my friend asked me a startling question: Are you happy? My response? No. OK, so I suppose I could've faked it and said yes my life is rosey and everything is peachy keen, but why lie? What good does that serve? So, I started to think back to the last time I remember being happy and could only pinpoint two times this year (other than when I met Nick Rhodes, that is): The day my ex told me he loved me and the day he told me how important I was to him. But, is that enough? Was I really happy? No, not really, because aside from those two times of reassurance, the rest of my days were filled with constant doubt of his feelings and our relationship. Plus, why am I basing my happiness and well-being on the actions of another person (especially one who turned out to be an asshole)? I don't really know the answer to that, nor do I know what is going to make me happy. Perhaps just sheer will and a desire to change whatever it is that I don't like in my life? I don't know. I don't know the answers. Is anyone truly happy? At their core, are they satisfied? Are they calm? Are they happy? What does it all mean anyway? Wow, why am I in such a philosophical mood?