How To Be Happy

It's a delicate balance.

If you think too much, life is presumably going to pass you by. You'll analyze, squeeze the meaning out of something. If you're not careful, you'll impair your brain's ability to assign meaningful value to people, places, things and events.

If you don't think enough, the results could be even more perilous. You'll make yourself available to visits from risk and emotional liability. You might miss out on things you would find enjoyable, but you certainly won't have to deal with the unforeseeable, or worse, foreseeable consequences of what could go wrong after you experience some sort of pleasure.

After attending law school and being an economics minor in college, it's a commonplace practice in my mind to quanitfy things that shouldn't accurately reflect any sort of numerical weight. I stifle these instincts to attempt to appear to possess some sort of humanity. If used correctly, this kind of thinking can shield you from heartbreak. It's cold and clinical, but it makes sense.

It is not rude, it is not self-seeking. It is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.

Of course to use that line of thought correctly, it should be coupled with a lobotomy and soul extraction. You may live without the burden of having a broken heart, but you'll end up sitting on the polar opposite end of the regret spectrum. Why do things have to make sense?

Better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all, they say. Who are these people? Do they really believe that what they learned from their relationship outweighs what's taken away when it's goine? Do they isolate the singular, unique experience as a victory, separating it from the net result loss? Do they not think that once the warmth is over it can only leave them colder?

Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth.

'They' are aonoymous. People who make statements like that often are. But I know someone who does think this. She told me once when my first serious relationship ended that I needed to be thankful for the experience and decide what I learned from it. At the time, what I learned was that I wanted to be alone all the time to prepare for the rest of my lonely life. Eventually I came to see that there was some validity to her advice.

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

Love is patient; love is kind.

Better to have loved and lost...

What doesn't kill you...

This is not about me. This is about what happens when love doesn't work out for someone who never lived life afraid to accept the bad consequences that could occur for putting oneself out there.

It's a brave way to live. It's something I aspire to do.

But it's really nothing compared to the bravery of stepping back, stopping what feels/felt so good and deciding it's time to cut losses and decide what you've learned from the whole experience. Love is a choice you make from minute to minute.

Love does not envy; it does not boast; it is not proud.

But what do you do when you want to hear the everything is going to be ok and all you can get is a God damned cliche?

Cliches are cliche for a reason.

It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails.