Existent

Happiness.

In my transition of bleak despair to utmost content, I realized I was completely and utterly afraid. I was terrified. Of the sudden outburst of calm water flowing through my body and not the ice that was so ever consuming. There was a silence, one long breath of a lack of noise- noise that was constant. And in that brief but significant moment-

It occurred to me why I was stricken with fear. 

I didn't know how to deal with happiness anymore. I pushed it away, each and every time it had gotten close to me. Because happiness had a sticky trait to it, once you let it in, it clung to you, and after some time you would become dependent on it. I knew enough of life to know, all to well, that happiness couldn't be constant.  It was never yours to keep. Someone always had the power to take it away from you. 

And to let that in, to let-

nothing in. Nothing but the warm breeze against your face, two soft rose petals pressed firmly against your quivering tongue- it seemed too easy. And for me, nothing good could come easy. No, not unless it was some kind of trick. Something that looked sweet but tasted sour. 

I was so over joyed in that single second, that I was overwhelmed with sadness, uncomprehending of whether or not I-

deserved such a luxury.