Happiness, A Destination, Or A Journey?

At this moment, I do not think so. Is it cynicism or practicality? Is it that I have fallen into a hole so deep for these years that I've grown to be a pessimist? I do not want to invalidate my opinion because that would be discrediting any of the progress that I've made thus far. But happiness is not a destination. It is a journey, and more literally, it is an emotion. And just like the seconds that go by during our days, our emotions are fleeting.

Why is it so difficult to imagine a world in which I can love myself completely? Or maybe the world that I live in right now is one in which my heart beats fast, pumping doubts through my arteries and often clotting my veins with the restless questions of my mind. Until I can overcome that anxiety, have I no right to love?

I always thought myself to be quite capable of such love, offering it to friends and family with the most open of arms. But maybe surety isn't the point.

They say you shouldn't use the words always or never when it comes to matters of science. Well, this seems to be a science as good as any. 100 percent doesn't seem like something that I should be aspiring to unless I want to be constantly dissatisfied with my progress and my status.

Unfortunate events occur within our lives, to teach us what the fortunate things feel like in comparison. And without the other, each concept is very arbitrary.

Because after all, sadness is an emotion too. And without it, how are we to recognize our happiness? So I would not go so far as to write off sadness, an entire emotion, as my familiar friend has taught me a lot.

It has taught me to feel deeply, in anything that I may be feeling. There was a time when I cursed my sensitive heart, but no longer. Although my sadness is hard felt, my happiness is felt even harder. And if that is the seemingly small fruit of all of my trials and tribulations, then I am truly grateful.

So if I must answer this question, I think that this makes me even more capable of love.