Why does being happy today feel almost like a betrayal – of all the times I’ve cried before, of all the hurt I’ve suffered, of all the pain I’ve borne till date, of all the wounds I’ve secretly bandaged and of all the aches I’ve nursed.
Why is it that when you’ve walked through fire it’s only burning embers that give you solace? Why can you not breathe freely unless the air is filled with smoke? Why must you pass your time by striking matches after matches? Why should you feel the urge to snuff out candles by touching their wicks with your bare fingers?
These questions are many and answers I have none. But when being happy feels almost like a betrayal, take a minute, then go ahead and stab yourself in the back. Only then a new phase of your life would have well and truly begun.
Because, my dear, the only betrayal is to not be happy instead.