what do we do now, now that we’re happy? it’s not a question very many people even get to ask themselves, i’m well aware. and i felt this way once before, but that time i decided the next step was to obliterate everything i’d built. i had help — from the universe tipping over long closed boxes, and from inevitabilities i hadn’t seen yet. i never seem to see them. cait as tiresias, full of prophecy and sightless in my current landscape.
that time, i didn’t believe i deserved the happiness. now, i feel long stretches of more than one moment when i believe it. i think i deserve it. d asked me yesterday how i felt about a certain aspect of my life that is new, that technically, i should be impressed by. i realized what i felt though, is that i am finally in the correct company. i hastily undercut this feeling by admonishing myself for such wild arrogance, and she gave me that look she does sometimes. it’s only in here that i feel free enough not to temper my self-love with self-effacement. these days the snippets of hateful voices never leave, embedded just under our skin like slivers.
what if you’re right, is that scarier?
what do we do now that we’re happy? we keep writing. lucky us. there is always further up, further in. happiness is the continual pursuit; look to the future and assume a generous gaze.