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I recently read somewhere, "what if we are eternally supposed to be sad, momentarily happy."

It took me a minute to process this, my world nearly paused for a while. Do we ever think about when we were happy? When was the last time I was actually happy? 

No, not I am on the trip happy, or I just got a new dress happy, or I had my favorite meal happy. Just happy, happy when something out of the ordinary was not happening. To my surprise, I couldn't recall anything like that in years. I thought I was doing fine, but turns out I wasn't. When all I have always wished for is happiness, it was pretty ironic that I wasn't feeling any of it in my recent present. 

I don't know when life became so hard that little things that stir up your life, started slipping away. When did the sadness became eternal and happiness became volatile? When did we go from devil-may-care to adulting so hard that it left us anesthetized? When did we go from being supremely optimistic to clinging on by a thread of positivity? When did we go from dreaming about finding our prince charming to ending up traumatized by falling in love with someone who didn't stay? When did we go from being called chubby and cute to being body shamed for the same? When did we start losing all the hope that kept us going through the peaks and valleys of life? When did we lose our innocence to distressing experiences and which one, in particular, was so unbecoming that it knocked off all the life inside us? 

Well, only if we could go back in time and knew the time to go back to...

 

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