I know, I know. A post with a title like that has potential to be all sorts of fucked up. This one’s not. Trust me.
I’m not one of those people who needs love in order to be happy. I have been one of those people but I am not now. Being in love makes things better, I admit, but things can be pretty awesome with it.
Yet, when I feel happiness, I feel love. I feel more love for everyone and everything. My friends, my family, my cats, my possessions, Republicans. It’s true. I feel happy and, by default, I feel and give love. I also feel a lot of gratitude. It’s probably the most awesome way to confuse a group of emotions.
It makes me even happier to think there is such love, that it even exists in the world. That I ever felt it. That anyone else does. It’s kind of a positive catch 22, an upward spiral, if you will.
I think this is making me a better person but even more importantly, a better friend and loved one. That makes me happy, too.
