We Forget

Many times, I do believe that we forget what makes us happy. Instead, we bury ourselves in what society serves up—that which we can hold, and break, in our hands and then just as easily replace.

            But, my sincerely dear reader, as we all someday will realize this—be it in full vivacity or on our deathbeds—we must now rediscover what gave our beginning generations the desire to continue on our allotted plot, our own Earth. Here and now I tell you that we will not find it together. Be it a soft smile from an any-weather-friend, the sight of a sky torn by lightning, or maybe the sound of a lone, proud violin, once you realize that you were born to live, you will be happy.

              I personally can’t even remember when I had this moment. I don’t want to say that it’s been eclipsed by even more joyful times, but that doesn’t help in remembering anyhow. It could have been while watching a storm at the Pier. Maybe it was discovering streaks of luminescence in the tiny jellyfish by the seawall. Then there is the first day of high school, the saving grace which led me away from that haunting depression once and for all. It might have been a night that I stopped and just looked up, really seeing the stars for the first time. My mother tells me that when I was young, I once stretched out my arms and screamed back at the roaring surf, simply because it was loud enough that no one else could hear me.

            I’ve had so many happy moments because I’ve learned to blunt the sharp edges and cancel out throbs of pain. I mentioned that I was once regrettably fencing with depression, an opponent both nimble and wiry. Well, that was because I saw nothing but the dark. But the thing about Darkness is that it’s only a bad thing when it is alone. When Light tiptoes in, Darkness takes on charm of its own and gently graces the dance floor next to its partner. The same can be said for Light, for how can we know Light without knowing Darkness? How can we know happiness without knowing pain? I believe that you are truly happy when you are thankful for your scars, because they make today so much sweeter.

            I want you to know how much I wish for everyone to be happy. I know that I can’t make them happy, but I can at least hope for it. And so, I’ll leave you with this:

Your time will come, and your patience will measure your strength. So in the mean time, work hard, and play nice.