My happy place is in the middle of a bustling street, with concrete and loud cars and too many strangers.
It is on my couch, curled up with a fuzzy blanket and hot chocolate.
It is the cool sting of chlorine in the summertime, and the burning hot cement that you have to run across.
My happy place is the grainy beach and the lullaby of the waves.
It is the fall leaves crunching underneath my feet, and the smell of a brush fire somewhere in the distance.
It is driving down some backroad, playing music a little too loud.
It is in the bed of a truck, on a lake, lying back and watching airplanes dash through the sky, wondering where each one is going and longing to be on it.
It is the bright winter snow, and the silence that comes with it.
It is the pounding in your chest from a concert, and the good kind of tired you feel after dancing all night.
My happy place is a giggle, a tear, a hug, a kiss, a late-night conversation, a busy day.
My happy place isn’t just one place, it could be anywhere, as long as I am with someone that I love.