I am not happy.
Happy is… bright balloons.
I am complete.
Like a figure in a breathtaking work of art.
It’s not excitement, nor spectacular.
It’s not grand.
It is small, AND big.
It is just here, being here.
It is like being held by life.
Like a tiny, absentminded smile.
Who knew that there’s a place beyond happiness, or before happiness, or around happiness?
Where being happy is still a possibility.
Where everything is just… everything.
Balloons, bears, bugs, burnt toast.
This is the most beautiful second ever.
And it will never happen again.
I am sorry, very sorry.
But I just feel so good.
Better than happy.
Not spectacular, or grand.
The best normal ever.
(Photo by @floriandeg, for Unsplash)