Today, as I was watching last weeks episode of Vampire Diaries, I figured I would see what the Daily Prompt, What is a Life Well Lived to You, is about. I’m sure this answer will be different from one person to the next.
For me, though, it’s pretty hard to answer. Not because I’ve never thought about it. That I don’t go to sleep at night and dream about what my life will feel like when it’s fulfilled. What I want to accomplish before I die.
For the most part, when I think about it, I think about being a published author. That I’ll be happy. Publish book after book and become an author that people love the books from. Read the books over & over until the binds undo. Until they are forced to buy another copy because they cannot read that one anymore.
But is that all I want out of life?
I know it’s something.
But for me. Sometimes I wonder if it’s enough. It would be wonderful. But my life is missing one thing, and I am having trouble finding it. Happiness.
I’m not sure I remember what happiness feels like. I’m talking straight up, loving life, happiness. I lost it once. I’ve been searching for it since. At one point a few years ago I thought I had found it. Grasped it tightly in my hands. But just as quick as I thought I had it, it was gone.
I tell people a lot that I haven’t been happy since my mother passed away. Honestly, I’m not sure I was even ‘happy’ before that. I was only fifteen when I lost her. Was I happy? Did I know what happiness was? Was I actually even happy? Does anybody really know what pure happiness is?
I talk about this a lot with friends and family & they all tell me that one day I’ll be happy. That I am happier than I have been in a few years. Am I? Shouldn’t I be able to tell that I’m happy BEFORE my friends & family?
What I am getting at. For my life to be well lived, not only do I want to be a published author. But I would like to be happy. Happy. Pure enjoyment smiling all creepily happy.