It's been so long since I've written because I've always had problems with writing about being happy.
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You see, sorrow is easy. It's something that swallows you entirely and consumes your life. It blocks the sun and it muffles the noise of laughter and it wraps around your heart. It's easy to sink into the empty cavity you chest has become.
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Happiness is harder. You can't expect it to happen, you have to stand up tall and face the darkness. You need to be stronger and tear open the blackness surrounding your heart and rip open your chest to let things fill it. It takes work.
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I've become happier. I got rid of the venom in my life, got rid of bad vibes. I decided I deserved friends who do as much for me as I do for them. I decided I did not need him anymore, and when he came back, I told him no. That I have found someone who is making me happier than I could have ever imagined being 4 months ago. I look in the mirror daily and tell myself, "You are not your father." Some days I believe it and some days I don't. Regardless I see this as progress.
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Regardless of how things are, I am happy.
