When Happiness Is...


not happiness if you're not with me. I am not able to replace that emptiness with anything, not even with the things I thought I love most.

How is it possible that the thigns I love most cannot make me happy anymore? I thought I'd be fine by filling the void with these things but I am not.

I told myself that I'd let go if everything is still unsure but I know I wouldn't want to say that and I am glad that I didn't have to. I thought I am an individualist, I thought I'm the type who can live for myself, I thought I am that independent, and I am wrong.

Because I know what it feels like to be happy, to be that person that I thought I can never be, to be so contented to take care of someone, and to be taken care of. I don't think I can be that independent anymore because I need that someone.

When I know what security is, everything else comes in second. Because that happiness is something I cannot find elsewhere.