Happiness is something that has always been foreign to me. It has never come easily and when it did, it was short lived.
For most of my life I have fought for happiness and, on the rare occasions I found it, I poured my heart and soul into keeping it, all with the knowledge that the fleeting moments of happiness I did achieve, would not last and that, in their wake, only pain would remain. Yet still, with this knowledge, I carried on in my search, hoping that each time would be different from the last. Phycology defines insanity as the repetition of the same action with the hope of different results. If you believe this definition, then I was, indeed, insane. But no amount of reasoning or explanation, not even the plainly evident truth that true happiness is, and always will be, an unattainable goal, could make me stray from my course.
My search lead through a string of failed relationships that inevitably ended in heartbreak. Somewhere along the line, I began to realize that what I felt for the other person wasn’t love, but a desire for the companionship that seemed to be my only means to ending the perpetual sadness that overwhelmed me. However, the longer I mulled over this realization, the more fake I recognized these partnerships to be, and the less they seemed to fulfill the loneliness in my heart and, in turn, bring me happiness. Slowly, I began to withdraw from the world, hiding in darkness and solitude, which, while not bringing me joy, spared me the pain of seeing the joy of others. Pass times and hobbies which once were the highlights of my days began to lose their meaning and devolve into drudgery. Jealousy and spite began to take hold, serving only to widen the rift between me and the outside world. No one seemed to notice my pain, and, by the time they did, it was too late. I had withdrawn into myself, like a turtle into its shell, and refused to let anyone close, for fear of repeating the now dreaded cycle of attachment and lose.
This strategy worked only for a short while. Soon, my loneliness and desperation grew to where I couldn’t help but to reach out to someone…anyone. And with that, the cycle began again. I remain in its grasp to this day, dreading the inevitable pain from which I know I cannot escape. I can only hope that, one day, someone, or something, will come along and free me from my endless, repetitive prison.