"But sometimes I remind myself that unlike the imagined happy up there, there are real, if small, moments of pleasure in the moment........And what if this is happiness? What if happiness is the practice of a slow calligraphy of these small gestures?"
You know what? A decent amount of people that I know in real life follow me on here and I say some pretty off the wall shit that probably surprises them because I don’t actually talk in real life……..oops
My heart has hardened. I try so hard not to allow myself the pleasures of joy, the present, expecting just to save myself the tears caused by my inevitable downfall. I have hardened my heart all at once. I didn’t even see it coming and it’s sad. So, so sad.
Sadness is so much easier sometimes. Too much comes with happiness or even the thought of being happy. The ups, the downs, the inbetweens. When you’re sad you know exactly what to expect, sadness. Much less effort. You can only be pleasantly surprised by happiness and you aren’t disappointed when the sudden joy goes back because you were already sad to begin with. Being sad is a one note song and I like it, but I want to be ready for a symphony.
You know a shitty thing about long distance relationships? Coming to the realization that possibly a multitude of others before you have kissed their lips or held their hand or made them shiver with pleasure or ran their fingers down their spine……….and you can’t even truly look into their eyes.