Today I received the most depressive answer of the last times: “I’m not unhappy”.
The last time I had that feeling I was driving home from the hospital, still hoping to see my father alive, and even with this hope, my first impulse was to take advantage I was driving at late night to commit an idiocy and become free of that painful feeling. I did not, and I will never do it.
With the years, I’ve become used from be “happy with few unhappy times” to be “not happy with (each time more frequently) some happy times”.
But “I’m not unhappy” sounds to “I’m not happy, but I’ve become used to not to be it”.
This writing is not dedicated to who gave me that answer, it’s dedicated to Ares, for when she’ll be older. And if who gave me that answer can learn from it, better for all.
Beu, viu, seu, riu,
fés sorgir un sentir joliu,
canta i balla, surt del niu
abans que torni l’estiu.
Drink, live, sit, laugh,
grow in you a happy feeling,
sing, dance, be out of,
because the summer is coming./
Anything, but don’t sit down seeing how the happiness leaves, fearing to try to cath it, and change the “not unhappy” for “unhappy”.
The risk worth it.
Hey, and if you need help, you have a lot of friends around you. And a big family who will hug you everytime you’ll need it.
I wish you will not be “not unhappy”, but if you feel it someday and I’m still around, just call me and I’ll leave anything to come here and give you one of those big hugs you hate, my little stubborn.