Being happy is a decision and right now I can live with making not so great decisions. Not making a decision is worse. I feel paralyzed.Walls keep going up and I keep my thoughts to myself. Not having someone to talk to, is what makes a person think they are going crazy. or even capable of crazy. I know this feeling too well, and I hate it. Currently, I’m living vicariously through the old me. Telling myself, time heals everything. Looking at how happy I was means I can get back there, it is something to look forward to. Making a plan to get there is up to me. Sticking to the plan, holds me accountable. But really, who cares about accountability. If you want things to change, you’ll be responsible and confront your fears up front. I’m just as much of a coward for hiding behind my words and getting lost in literature and another person’s broken promises. Now, it’s okay to laugh because there’s comfort in knowing things still scare you, even at twenty-four years old. It’s funny when people say happiness is not a place. For me, happiness has always been a place even if sometimes disguised as a state or some in-between time. It’s definitely times, days, and weeks like these that you remember what makes you happy. Cherish him, or her. Cherish them. Cherish it.