The pursuit of happiness

[ed. note: I do not believe in intentional misspellings.]

"Am I allowed to be happy?"

"Why yes, of course you're allowed to be happy, what a silly question!"

I can hear you thinking it right now. I'm even nodding my head in agreement with you. But something about this concept is uncontrollable. It lurks in dark places. It makes me think that maybe happy isn't a choice. Maybe it lies outside the realm of our control. Perhaps happy is something that other people have the power to give and the power to take away, not a state line we can cross freely.

Alright, enough with the Carrie-Bradshaw-meets-Stephen-King reflecting. Here's the bottom line: history has taught me that just when I think it's safe to enjoy life, to feel relieved, to blossom, that at the worst possible moment, my happiness will be wrenched away from me. So instead of just plunging into an arbitrary state of joy, I take the precautionary step of asking "can I be happy now?" This is designed to keep me from falling into the abyss unexpectedly. Sadly, it kind of works. So far, I've eluded the abyss.

Tentatively, I think everything is falling into place... my health is a complex crisis but anyone who knows me saw that coming; my relationship is solid and I finally feel like I can relax about it (I hope I can... I need abnormally giant amounts of reassurance but that's a story for another day); my friends are always steady; my family is always unpredictable... but at least for now, I'm evading the worst of it all. For now, I can chase happiness (and then pin it down and subject it to interrogation).