It’s supposed to be festive, full of happiness and joy. I have no reason not to feel these things but my mind blocks the happiness from escaping to my soul. My eyes feel with the tears seeping from my heart. There is no reason. I am one of the luckiest people alive and I know it, intellectually. Emotionally I can’t grasp it. I don’t have the ability to pull it from deep within and wrap it around my soul. It tethers there, just out of grasp making things seem in a dense fog. My reality is very different from my inner being. I’m smart, but I am not smart enough or savvy enough to make the two connect and give me the electricity needed to have joy, real joy. Forced joy is not an emotion I can even pretend to know what it feels like. It is like a rock weighing down my heart.

In these times of forced happiness, I can love,laugh and live and no one can see the black turmoil within my soul. It is hidden behind my heart which beats blank happiness. If the heart controlled my life it would be bliss, but the soul holds the key. Twisted with memories and choked with emotion…things I’m not to feel, I’m to be the happy one. The laughing one. And…I am those things on the surface, deep down I never expected to feel completely out of control of an emotion I have no control over. Seasons where joy is forced upon each of us, I just want to back away and bask from afar. It’s like a movie played out and my eyes can’t focus on the screen. I hold myself together with the realization that all the forced happiness… “this too shall pass”, and every day life is what I live best. I live out loud!

Gifts don’t have love, the lover holds the gifts. We stray far from a reality I want to live in. A reality where you buy someone something just because you love them, just because they make you smile. A forced giving is out of my realm of imagination. It stands off to the side and reaches with its black gloved hand to pull you into something that was really not meant to be. When I can give love, laughter and a hug…That’s when my happiness overflows. When I’m forced to give something, it is but an illusion of the real me. It makes me feel the darkness seep in and overtake the real me. My happiness is in the fact…”this day too shall pass”.

If I hold you, hug you, laugh with you smile because you make my heart sing. Those are the things that are real from the follicles of my being. Everything else is a forced existence I have to attribute. It’s not me and if you know me, it’s really hard to not really be me.


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