Y'know when everyone you know insists you're wonderful and amazing and have nothing to worry about 'cause your happy ending is just around the corner?

And y'know when you keep insisting you're all right and happy and beg them to stfu, but they keep repeating that you're wonderful and amazing and have nothing to worry about 'cause your happy ending is just around the corner?

Like...

Why can't they take a hint?

It's really weird, but I'm happy. Really, really happy.

I'm not restless and frustrated and disillusioned and angsty. I'm not miserable and lonely and annoyed. I'm not listening to sad music and journalling in my personal journal and comparing my life to the lives of others.

Even when I was in Montreal, I can honestly say that I wasn't as happy as I am now. I don't know what it is. Maybe it's the fact that, despite the stress, anger, frustration and monotony of my work, I feel appreciated. Or maybe it's the fact that, despite living at home and being perpetually single, I'm at peace with myself.

Then again, I could owe it to the fact I do not have any romantic aspirations at all at the moment. Usually, this is around the time I'm scrambling to find/meet/fall for someone. This is the time Marcela gets desperate.

And for once, I'm not playing that game.

I'm happy being single.

It's liberating. And for once in my life, I honestly hope nothing fucks this up for me.

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