Maybe Happiness Isn’t Gone, It’s Just Waiting

There’s a quiet kind of loneliness that doesn’t come from being alone. It’s the kind that slips under your skin even when you’re surrounded by people. The kind that makes laughter feel borrowed, smiles feel rehearsed, & moments that should feel warm just… skim across the surface without touching you. You keep telling yourself you’re fine. You keep doing the things. You show up. You speak. You exist. But somewhere underneath all that, you know you haven’t really felt happy in a very long time. Not the deep, breathless, tears-in-your-eyes kind of happiness. Not the kind that used to appear out of nowhere, for no reason other than life feeling briefly, inexplicably light. You remember it though—don’t you? Those days when laughter came easy, when you’d collapse on the floor with your friends, laughing at nothing & everything at once. Those days when the world wasn’t this heavy. When happiness wasn’t something you had to chase like a ghost you’re not even sure is real anymore. Somewhere along the way, something changed. Maybe it was heartbreak. Maybe it was loss. Maybe it was trauma that carved out parts of you you’ll never get back. Or maybe it was just the slow grind of surviving in a world that demands too much & gives almost nothing in return. You became quieter. Smaller. More careful. Not introverted by nature, but by necessity. Protection became second nature. Walls became muscle memory. Hope became… something you rationed. You stopped believing that joy would ever come back. But then someone showed up. Not the “fix you” type. Not a savior. Not a dramatic, cinematic miracle. Just someone whose presence feels like safety in a world that has never stayed gentle for long. Someone who doesn’t make you louder, just makes your silence feel less sharp. Someone whose laugh makes you remember your own. The one you weren’t expecting to matter this much. The one whose messages shift your entire emotional weather. The one who doesn’t even know how much space he takes up inside you. Maybe he’ll never know. Maybe he can’t feel the same. Maybe the universe is cruel like that. But his presence still changed something. Because sometimes, out of nowhere, you catch yourself smiling at something small he said. Or you laugh—really laugh—at something stupid. & it hits you all at once: there it is. That spark. That tiny flicker of happiness you thought you’d lost forever. It’s not constant. It’s not secure. It’s not enough. But it’s real. & sometimes real is enough to keep you breathing. Maybe happiness was never gone. Maybe it was just waiting, quietly, stubbornly, for the right energy, the right connection, the right moment to wake up again. Even if that moment hurts. Even if it’s temporary. Even if it’s tied to someone who can’t meet you where your heart lives. Maybe happiness isn’t a destination. Maybe it’s a memory that returns the second someone reminds you what it feels like to be alive—even if they don’t stay, even if they never become yours. with scars, shadows & unkillable hope. hopedieslast. -a

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