dear diary: 11/8/11

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I’ve come to realize that sometimes, life isn’t about being happy.

Life is about trying to be happy.

Does that make sense?

 

I know happiness is an often contemplated thing here on my blog, but guess what?

I’m discovering that I’m happy.

I’m happy a lot of the time now a days here on Exile Island.

It may not be the ‘from the tips of my toes to the crown of my head warmth’ of joy. But it’s just a ‘oh, I have no desire to cry today.’ I haven’t cried in a long time now. That’s a good thing little ones.

Nothing is as important as being happy with your life. Regrets will make you ugly when you get old. I may not be going on a million dates or making a zillion new friends. But I have a few new friends that make me laugh. Dating isn’t a big deal to me right now, so why would I care about not going on any? I have a wonderful life full of potential and adventure right now.

Why should I waste it being sad?

Why shouldn’t I make cupcakes and look up single adds on Craigslist for my Saturday night entertainment?

Or make spaghetti at two in the morning with Quinci because she craves carbs?

It’s my life, I’m going to define my own happiness, by simply trying to be happy.

And that’s all I can ask for.