Questioning This Happiness.

found via the little lady in the music box
“Are you happy?”

I love this question—the depth that it has within its short sentence, the three words that touch me right into my core—because it might be the only question that does not question back my existence or give me a reason to question it anymore. I love to know that this question asks me about my feelings rather than my presence—unlike when people ask “how are you” or “what’s up”—to know about my current state rather than my current feeling.

“Are you happy?”
“Honestly, I am not quite sure whether I am or not.”

I am sorry I can’t reply it as honestly as you expect me to answer it. I am delightful by the way you ask—by the way you break the normality and ask me this question but I am sorry I have to give such a vague answer. To be honest, I am not sure. I don’t know if I am happy or I am just pretending to be one. I don’t feel the smile I am smiling as genuine as it could be, but I don’t like to think everything I feel as a fake one too. Obviously, I am confused—I am just literally lost.

Basically, I have been under a lot of pressure lately. I found myself drowning in this ocean of confusion where I have no buoy to hold onto to stay afloat. I am not a good swimmer—by any mean, I am not good in handling my stresses—thus I am sinking. I am smiling and laughing every now and then, but I am not sure if I really am happy. Most of the time, I question the reasons behind my smiles or my laughter. I look at people and stare deep—as if I am seeking answers for my questions from their silence.

In times when I go into the bathroom, I would stare at my reflection and practice to smile. It has been a burdening task—to appear happy on the outside when I know I am not from the inside. I would practice to be as bright as my friends think I would be—when the real truth is that I bury my self under layers of facade of happiness when my core it rotting with confusion. I deal from day to another with hope that I could take off this facade and live free to be genuinely happy—but it is not that simple. I would only fake my smile again and again until I am exhausted.

“Are you happy?”
“Come to think about it, maybe I am not after all.”