The Long Road to Happiness

For me, the hardest thing to do right now is to acknowledge that I am happy. 

I told myself I don't need to advertise my happiness. There are exes out there who might not be as lucky as I am in love. There are friends out there who would think "Why aren't you this happy with us?" or felt abandoned. Of course, I am also a very territorial person so all of these could easily just be in my head.

Then I told myself that I don't need to tell the world because the world doesn't need to know. The feeling is mine and mine alone. My closest friends could see my happiness from the meager pictures I posted, or the ups and downs of me trying to not runaway because commitment scares me. That should be enough.

Yet I know why I didn't write about it. I know why I didn't write how happy I am. Of how I wish my readers know what to expect from a man. Of the lovely feeling he made me feel, and should be a standard for anyone, men or women, to receive.

You didn't get to read about that happiness because I am scared. I don't want to acknowledge I am happy because I am scared it won't last. I am scared the rug will be pulled from under me once more. I am scared of realizing that I am too broken to be loved.

Giving love is easy. There's such an abundance of it that you can give so much and you are still in excess. Accepting love is a different story. What if it's a trojan horse filled with sadness and grief. What if it's only temporarily. What if the person decided to take it back. What if you were never loved all along.

I don't want to admit I am happy because it leaves me vulnerable. I don't want to admit it because I could be wrong. I want to be silent about it so if the worst thing happened I don't have proof that I was happy, and I can shrugged and say, "Meh. It is no biggie."

But I am happy. I have someone whom I can be eager to go home to. I enjoy the embraces and the feeling that I am somebody's special. I love all the laugh and the adventures. No gaslighting, no manipulating, no walking on eggshell. No conditional "I love you if you…"

This year of 2020 my challenge is to embrace that woman standing shivering in front of the open door, who has been waiting for the hands to push her outside into the coldness of the night. I want to close the door gently and pull her to the warmth of the fireplace, where the bed is made and someone who wants her waiting her patiently. 

We're going to be fine, little queen. We're going to be fine.