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When A Person Is Your Happy

When a person is your happy, the world tends to fade away when you’re with them.
Nothing else seems to exist, nothing else seems to matter.
And for those moments you are with them, no matter how fleeting they may be,
the world is calm.
There is peace amongst the endless storms in your brain and what’s there, in front of you, is like the sunrise clearing away the darkness in your head.

 

When a person is your happy, you don’t realize how every time your phone vibrates or dings with a new notification,
you’re subconsciously hoping it’s from them.
Your brain is always hoping to see their contact name appear on the screen.
You don’t realize this until you realize that when it is them, you get that feeling you get when you’re going over the first drop on a rollercoaster.

 

When a person is your happy, you get addicted to them.
Every time you’re around them, or talking to them, it’s like you’re taking another hit.
But you don’t notice how addicted you are until you go a couple hours without talking to them,
or days without seeing them,
and your skin starts to get this itch, one so bad you can feel it in your brain, almost as if you need to scratch through your skull to make it stop.

 

When a person is your happy, it’s easy to forget about yourself, to lose yourself along the way.
The girl who is petrified of talking on the phone, even to her own mother, is now staying up late into the night because he has to tell her all about the new game he just bought.
The boy who hates classical music is sitting front row at his orchestra concert.
The girl who hates any and all things girly now has an appointment for a manicure just because it’s more time she can spend with her.

 

When a person is your happy, it’s terrifying.
It’s terrifying because you tell yourself that no, they don’t mean that much to you, because you promised yourself no one else ever would.
How they became your reason to get out of bed in the morning, to even wake up, means nothing.
It doesn’t make a difference that they’re the first thing on your mind when you wake up and the last thing before you go to sleep, and sometimes they’re still there in between.

 

You’re “accidentally” stealing their clothes, just because it’s something to have that smells like them, like home, but you tell yourself it’s only because you’re cold.
And besides, they’re not stopping you, so it can’t really mean that much, right?
If you’re not talking, you’re thinking about them, and if you’re waiting for a text back, that’s the most prominent thought in your brain, and if you’re on the phone with them, the sound of their voice is the only thing that matters, but it’s not serious...right?

 

When a person is your happy, that person is your floor.
When you get out of bed in the morning, they are there, and when you go to sleep at night, they are there.
You don’t have to double-check because the floor doesn’t just disappear.
The floor doesn’t just one day decide to become the ceiling and tip your world upside-down.
Right?

 

When a person is your happy, your normal ability to function is compromised.
Because what if one day, you aren’t that person’s happy anymore?
What if you never were?
What if one day, your happy decides it’s found something new, something better, and leaves just as quickly as it came?
And what if you can’t figure out how to get through the day without them?

 

Because when a person is your happy, your happy is as guaranteed as the same drop of water from your shower last week raining down on you next week.
And when that drop of water ends up far, far away from you, when that happy leaves, it hurts greater than any pain you can imagine.
It feels as though you’ve been sliced a thousand times over with cardstock paper and now you’re being drenched in salt and lemon juice.

 

Imagine going through a long day and being ready to come home and collapse into bed, but when you pull onto your street, your house isn’t there anymore.
There is nothing more than a vacant lot left in its wake.
Your stomach drops and everything feels like it’s simultaneously frozen and fallen to the ground in shards.
Because when you lose your happy, it feels like your home is being torn out of your soul, taking bits of you along with it.

 

But at the same time, you feel nothing at all.
Behind your ribcage where your heart and lungs used to lie, there is only a hollow cave, the last drops of blood falling down, creating an echo.
It feels like there really isn’t anything running through your body anymore, to the point where you start to question if you’re really alive.
And your brain, god your brain...it feels like the world has been forced into your head and is ready to explode outwards again at any given moment.

 

Because when a person is your happy, it dips the world in watercolors and disguises all the pain.
And throughout the entire experience, you’re telling yourself you won’t fall for it again.
You won’t let yourself believe, have hope again because it’ll only be shredded back in your face, but dammit, how can you not when everything looks so pretty now?
You forget it’s all an illusion.
You forget it won’t last.

 

Because when a person is your happy, you forget that you are not.






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