When life has been cruel for so long, you don’t ever expect it to be kind. So I think to myself that this has to be some sort of twisted joke. That’s how I feel about her. I don’t mean to, I can’t help it. I find myself stuck on questioning the validity of this reality. But my argument itself is perhaps invalid. Logic seldom prevails in such cases.
There is a strange and soothing comfort in somehow connecting with an unlikely person. But I suppose that’s the beauty of it all, being taken by surprise when you are unsuspecting the events to come. A point to be noted: Life is eventful. I think we often think otherwise because we expect certain events to occur and so completely dismiss the ones that do.
But she happened. It was hard to miss.
Sometimes, when I look at her, there doesn’t seem to be enough air around me. It’s almost as if for that brief moment someone has put me inside a vacuum, and I am suddenly flailing for air. I actually don’t mind it. But I make sure my brief episodes of suffocation go unnoticed by her.
I suppose some would say that this can be called happiness. Maybe. I’m not so sure. I’m not concerned with giving it a name. We’re so set on finding happiness that we forget that it’s just a descriptive word for an abstract emotion. The truth is, we may never really know what it means.
But what I do know is that when I look at her and she smiles, I feel a sense of warmth that I can’t really explain. I don’t know if there really is a name for such a phenomenon. But in a lack of a better word, perhaps, I’ll just call it happiness.