If you got a penny for every time you shunned yourself for not remembering the happy thoughts because, after all, all you need are happy thoughts, I wonder how rich you will be. If I counted, I might not be a millionaire, but I would be more prosperous than my bank account tells me I am because if there is one thing I have mastered, it is the craving for a certain kind of sadness.
Misery indeed loves company because I find myself infecting my heart and my lungs with the failing reality of my shortcomings. I have managed to compose a story I tell myself that dances around the impossibilities. I must admit that I have asked the universe more times than I care to admit “why me,” and when that question becomes too heavy, I yell at myself in the mirror as if my reflection is the part of me that is failing me. Still, I remember to remember the happy thoughts and pick my smile up from my heavy chest and hope that the day comes with memories that are worth more than the drops of my tears. Some days I realize that I carry a sadness that reminds my heart that it is failing at doing the one thing that it should be good at doing. On these days, I ask my heart, “who is to say you are failing” and the answer is always the same. I am to say; I am the voice in my head that refused to be quiet; I am the sound of my victories and the strength that picks my heart up when we get hit by everything this world has to offer. I, not anyone else; I am the only one who can decide if my smile should change the world or if I should be kind to myself. I am the only one to say.
So, if I got a dollar for every time I let my heart go through the adventure of disappointment and reach the destination of strength, I might still not be rich, but maybe that is where I am failing. It could be I forget to be patient with my thoughts and with my heart. Perhaps I forget that the world is not perfect, so I would be a false dreamer if I thought I could be ideal. I guess I forget that as much as misery loves company, joy does too. So maybe all I need to do is invite us all to the party; sadness might have tips on how to communicate with my heart better, and laughter might remind my lungs that there is always light at the end of the tunnel, no matter how many tunnels we go through.
