Happiness...

There are days I wonder If I could

ever be truly happy, days I wonder if I could smile with all my heart and mean it. I don't care whether it lasts or not, I just want to be really sure that, me, at this very moment is happy, may be happy with a person, happy at a place, happy with a book, happy about the food. Anything. Anything would do.

But you know, there is not a piece of me that believes I will be there one day, not even a teeny-tiny piece. I feel like there would always be something of the past that would hold me back from laughing, from relaxing, from letting myself truly free. I grew up in such a weird way that I begin doubting the moment I am happy. There is this impending fear of loss, of failure, of sorrow. I keep myself in check everytime I feel slightly happy. I was brought up like that.

So on days, I feel I should change, change in such a way and adjust to all that is hurting me, all that has hurt me. Say nothing, do nothing, so feel nothing sort of thing. But you know, I can't. I could feel things crumbling inside and around, I could feel the pain but I would still keep trying, still keep struggling to live, to be better. 

I would still voice my opinions, tell people things they don't like to hear, 

and in the end, get rewarded in emotional baggage.

I don't think I will ever be truly happy. There is too much I can't let go. But I think I will keep trying.