He told me that sometimes he has trouble articulating his thoughts.

This is not just because of the never ending search for the correct words; but because sometimes it’s not a thought he’s trying to grasp.

Sometimes it’s a feeling.

I am of the mindset that feelings are even harder to articulate.

It’s just an ache.



Yes, definitely painful.

Pain doesn’t always mean some great sorrow is tearing my life asunder. It could be a happiness so intense that it hurts to keep it all in.

She told me this is the happiest she has even seen me. She’s known me for five years.

They are all happy for me, happy for my happiness. It almost feels selfish.

He was concerned.

My happiness is for me. Every selfish bit of it is mine.

But there’s too much. It hurts. I can’t help but share it, even though it brings my motivations into question.

My motivations are egocentric. It’s my turn to be happy, and fuck those guys who want to take it away from me.

Where was I going with this…?

Not everyone has the opportunity to feel a happiness so deep it hurts to keep it contained.

Not everyone is give the chance to expose themselves to someone who’s happiness consumes them.

I only hope that my happiness is half as contagious as it feels to me.


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