reason to live (short story) - (UPDATED)✔️

what is happiness?

Nolan

   "mmhm, what do you think?" Elliot looks at me in question, while i look towards the painting. "i like it, think it might mean a lot more from someone else's perspective, but it seems pretty deep." i simply shrug as my eyes scatter through the detailed structures.

  "maybe you're right, didn't think of it in that kind of way until you acknowledge it in a different way." i nod, swinging our connected hands while fidgeting with the ends of his hair. "well, the smiling women seems to have a hesitant gleam for most, but to me i believe it's more so of a mask." i reply, while we walk through the almost empty halls.

   "as an artist, i think it might be easier to express these type of things in ways that can mean precisely what you're heart desired for it's true meaning while holding a completely different view to the public gaze, feelings can be shown to mean a lot of things in a lot of ways. that's the true meaning of art, even if not feeling anything at all, it's still something." i inform as my boyfriend gives me a small smile.

  "i guess that's true." he comments. the expressional gateway to feel more than one thing at the same time. "simultaneous." i chime in as we both stop to look towards each other. "yeah, that was a lot better than actually having to explain it." he comments with a small chuckle continuing to walk while pulling me through the corridors.

   the place felt closed in, with little to no people in the dim building. i wonder sometimes, what is it that actually makes these pieces so fascinating to see? would some say cash, prices of plain intentions? would some say pain, a creation of which we fall in hopes to cope through paint, or is it the ability to think with fictional retrains of happiness we've once spoken of?

  what would we become once colorblind?

  "you're thinking of something." Elliot's gaze tells a story of which i know all too well. "yes, i'm thinking of you." i say out loud for only him and i to hear. "is that so?" he questions and i nod. i'm not lying, in fact i told the complete truth. Elliot loves his father with or without discretion. i know it, he does too.

  the envious intent never came to mind in which he copes. he does it without knowing and i find no place to say out loud that matter because i believe he is aware. we all change ways from a loss of something, to let go completely would've left him alone. an identity crisis in the making and i choose not to say out loud for reasons i can not explain.

  he'll change in ways he will not be aware of, in ways he can never go back to, not even if he tries. the pain will overlay a scar and he'll show it openly to acknowledge the growth in which he had wanted, but losing in ways he can not return to will hurt the most.

  like depression, we go through stages of grief. we hurt, cry beneath a wave of unproductaon, we hold a scar of which we will never loss, a scar that will be spoken aloud beneath the boulders of ourselves. change without ever realizing because we just simply can't go back. 

  i wanted to stay in bed and now i can't sleep. i wanted to feel that wave of not having an appetite, now when i feel it is that moment i will eat my pain away. changing should be beneficial, until it's not. i don't stay in bed because i simply can't, i have people who depend on me so i can't cry in peace without thinking that sensitivity will be a burden in disguise, and for that i feel weakened beneath their gaze.

   getting better will not be unaware. i'm self depended towards myself because i feel i need to be. Elliot is a woe beneath his own wings and to take flight with him will only effect his will-power, for he will fall into self destruction for the two of us. my flaws are most acknowledged, unlike most.

   learning yourself can be harder then learning your lover. feeling this pain and thinking that it'll fade with the presence of your significant other, is false. feeling this pain and knowing that you a prepared to hurt later on without their presence, is not. sadness works in different ways and like happiness it is not easily determined by you yourself but the situation is.

   we are not aware of our happiness, like when we smile from others or ourselves but when we acknowledge the downfalls of sadness, it is so easily depicted and determined as ones being and aligned with our characters, we paise the negativity in which we saw out to feel. yet when adding a positive aspect to life we mislead it as nothing, surely because it's how we see fit to feel, learning familiarity within one trait does not make it your personality.

   happiness is not of which we determine as a aspect of our character simply because we are aware that it is only a temporary factor of which we feel from a certain situation. so why is it that sadness is a single part of us that can be understood so easily and happiness is not?

  when being asked of our happiest moment we struggle to see fit from a simple question, but recalling multiple moments of sadness will always be at ease and there will never be more than one answer in fate. we miss details in our lives because we simply want to forget. but grief is a stepping stool in which we comprehend as being closer to depression, so what is it that makes us the great or good when recalling our happiest moments? what is the meaning of happiness?

  does the moment fall beneath our wings too? or do we simply live more for what we wanted in life?

  a question in which man kind could never rewind.