For the last three days I was happy. Not manic as I’ve been before but happy, truly happy. Not because I was with someone, not because I’d fallen in love. I’ve let go of all of that. It’s not going to happen. I recognize that now.
But accepting that, I was happy. Then I read something and realized that I may have put my desires ahead of a friend’s needs when they were hurt and the glazing over my heart cracked and shattered. And I am left with this terrible possible truth. I don’t know if she would regard it the same.
For me it had been a bright beautiful moment a day of complete bliss and joy. I thought I was helping a friend. And doing it in a way that was needful, neccesary. The right perfect action in the moment. And if I was wrong about that. Then nothing I’ve ever done is right
My happiness and this incident are months apart.
I don’t know. Maybe I’m just looking for a reason to be hurt