The Elusive Happiness

Today was supposed to be an awesome day. It was GOING to be an awesome day.

But no.

I swear, I think that in order for me to have awesome days I must avoid people AT ALL COSTS. Because there’s some sort of globally broadcasted message that when I am having a good day, someone needs to come along and ruin it.

Even if they probably didn’t intend on ruining it, they do. They burden me with problems I can’t fix and they don’t respond to any moves I make to cheer them up.

I’m not going to be vague about this. Sometimes, The Yankee makes me want to choke him. Why can’t he be happy? He has so fucking much to be thankful for and all he EVER focuses on are the things he can’t control or the things that got messed up. Yeah, things get me down A LOT—I understand perfectly how it feels. But I don’t DWELL on it! I move on! Yeah, it really sucked that I was homeless in Finland with no money for weeks and I was in the middle of a divorce. But I managed. I just remembered the things I DID have—friends that cared about me and my babies.

Just when things start looking better, he has to come in and muck it all up. Why? Does he LIKE being miserable? Is he really that incapable of seeing the positive in ANYTHING?

I really like him, but it’s days like this he just makes me sad and I feel like there’s nothing I can do for him and so I should leave. Apparently I don’t assist his happiness. I’m not saying I should make him happy, but I am saying I don’t know if I can be with someone who can’t see the good in ANYTHING—who can’t even be a small, meagre amount of happy when I’m honestly trying my damndest to cheer him up. Maybe he can, maybe he can’t. I honestly don’t know because all I ever get to see is someone who can only see the negative side of matters.

And with that thought, I’m going to bed.