I tell myself a lot of stories, usually just a line or two of my life.
We size our successes against those of others, we forget how enormous they are in the face of someone else's showy and colossal successes. Our problems, though, we measure only against ourselves. Our problems are enormous; we forget how lucky we are to have the problems we do. It's an incredible blessing that the worst thing I have to fear is mediocrity.
I think a lot about this mythological happiness that we're all chasing, some dream state where all things and feelings are warm and your mind is always well-lit and flushed with roses. That dream state is all that keeps us going, but I at least really have to accept that it's okay to just be okay. There's no failure in not having a bliss to follow. It might show up one day or it might not. In the meantime, stasis is a few worries that refuse to heal over and a few small pleasures, tumbling about my every day.
It's so much more convenient not to believe in love.
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