Saturday, 9 April 2016
H is for Happiness
Do you ever get that question? Hopefully you do. Hopefully it comes from someone who cares about you - or at least cares about the answer.
Your answer is important. But if you're like me, your answer depends very much on who's asking, where you are and if there's others around who might hear you.
Most often I give a smile, a small shrug and say "of course" with a voice that's appropriately bland. After that I usually try to avoid the person, or at least the subject… because how often can I truly say that I'm happy?
Can you? Can anyone?
Sometimes I am. Happiness bubbles through me and I almost skip along the street like a little girl because simply walking is too dreary to fit the occasion - but when that happens it's pretty clear and no one need to ask. They can see it.
When I'm not, I often do not want to talk about it. Not with just anyone at least, and definetly not as an answer to a random question when the asker probably doesn't expect me to pour out all my sorrows for everyone to see.
Most often I'm somewhere in between, and cue in the bland answer. The expected answer. The answer that doesn't demand anything from the asker.
Because it's easier that way.