Happiness

Some people are miserable because they live their lives haunted by the past. I was perpetually depressed because I was too busy thinking about the future. I daydreamed about things like the next time my clan would go on a cruise, the next time A would have a soiree, the return of a long test I felt confident about.

Life, for me, was about the big things. Most of my time was spent waiting for the next thing to come. The problem with that is that more often than not, I was disappointed. My expensive new guitar didn't sound as good as I thought it would. The soiree I lost sleep thinking about ended up being a bust.

That's why, for the most part of my sixteen years on earth, I've been depressed. The stuff I looked forward to never seemed to turn out the way I planned. I hated life. I was convinced that some higher being was purposely messing with me for amusement.

It was only very recently that I found the solution to my sadness- start finding joy in the little things. I started to care less about the grand and the extravagant. The things I used to find trivial and insignificant became my main source of happiness. Now, simple things (like hanging out with my friends, or doing well on a quiz) matter to me, and I'm a much happier person for it.

----

[short story]

The aircon was set to eighteen degrees, but that wasn't what was giving her goosebumps. It was his hand. His manly, calloused hand resting on her thigh. His eyes weren't helping either. They were chestnut colored, and, somehow, simultaneously gentle and naughty.

"I just don't think I'm ready," she said.

"But that's what you said last time," he complained. "Come on, you promised!"

"Well, I lied!" she said, while pushing his hand off of her. He stood up, walked across the room, and sat in a corner."

"I just don't see why this is such an issue for you,"he said, sighing. "Lots of people do it."

"Don't you think people will think differently of me afterwards?" she asked.

"Maybe, but it won't matter. It'll be better afterwards, I swear."

She didn't know how to reply. She loved him, she was sure, and he seemed to love her back. He was the perfect boyfriend-he never asked her for anything, he was considerate, thoughtful, and quite good looking. He could definitely do much better than her, and yet he stayed with her anyway. The past year had been the happiest in either of their lives.

The sadness in his face was quite evident. It hurt her to see him like this.

"Okay, I understand. I won't pressure you to do anything you aren't ready to." He stood up,

went to her, kissed her on the cheek, and walked to the door.

"Wait!" she shouted, as his hand was turning the doorknob. He looked back at her, with those

beautiful eyes of his, and his hand still on the knob. He raised an eyebrow, and there was a sad

smile on his face.

"I'll do it." she said softly but confidently.

He walked up to her, and she stood up to meet him. There were tears welling up in his

eyes as he hugged her.

"You know how long I've been waiting for this moment, right?" he said, rubbing his eyes.

"Yes, I do."

"I love you."

It was her first time, and it was over in a matter of minutes. It hurt. Each motion brought

a stinging sensation, and her face was ever so slightly contorted with pain. Still, it wasn't quite

as painful as she had expected. The stinging went away eventually, replaced by numbness.

"See," he said, when it was all over, "don't you feel much better, now
that you've gotten rid of your unibrow?"