Happiness is an illusion.
I am not saying that I am not happy. I am. I border on
delirious for a multitude of intense moments; times of laughter and passion
when the world seems to slip away. Surreal and sudden and blissful. They happen
when I least expect them. The scent of them lingers for hours and takes the
edge off my fears.
Yet they are not something I cling to. Not something that I
want to recreate every day.
I used to think it would be easy to calm the storms inside
me. I used to believe that if I prayed hard enough I would feel a euphoria
engulf me and stay wrapped around me like a warm blanket. But that has yet to
happen.
Don’t feel sorry for me. Don’t try to pray a spell of
happiness to envelope me like a mist and shed the scars and blisters from my
soul. There are many of us. We drift in between the shadows. Not depressed. Not
manic. But in limbo. We know that the fog will never lift, but we have taken it
upon ourselves as a burden, a cross to bear.
Many times the trials of life seem too heavy. The reality of
our future nonexistence weighs heavy on our souls. We seek to grab the promises
of eternal habitation, but their allure slips away as we consider their lofty
possibilities.
What holds the gloom at bay? What keeps us from slipping
into the abyss? The warmth and promise of love is the only solid footing on
this journey. It sustains me. It fills my belly. It feeds the hope that I so
often starve. Love is all that keeps me away from the ledge.
I do not seek your pity. I just want you to see me, and if
you notice the dark cloud settling overhead, grab my hand and lie to me – tell
me it will all be alright. For the powerful light of love is all that can drive
the clouds away.
