I read somewhere that happiness could be expressed in an equation relating reality and expectations. Actually I believe it was in Jodi Picoult's Nineteen Minutes that I read this. If you think about it, the concept makes sense: you're disappointed when things don't go as well as planned and you're happy when things go better than planned. I was reminded of the idea the other day, and I realized it isn't true.
I was walking to catch a bus and sipping some earl grey tea the other day when I realized that happiness does not have to be dependent on expectations and reality. I was not having a great day. I felt like my whole day was being taken up by things I did not want to do, but had to do. But as I sipped my earl grey I realized that I was happy despite it. Perhaps it was the earl grey? It usually makes me happy.
I wish that feeling would last: happiness that doesn't have some particular reason. It always disappears when I need it. The fluttery feeling of ecstacy suddenly plunges to some unknown depth, leaving nothing but this heavy, not empty, but solid, heavy, metal weight inside my soul. The kind of weight that makes you look down as everyone passes around you. It's the same wieght that sometimes makes me look up into their eyes, looking for something.
