At some point, I was happy.
I had moments of joy.
And then, one molecule at a time, the happiness went away.
I think it began in childhood.
My well-being disappeared so gradually I hardly noticed.
Sometimes sadness comes on like a sudden fog after months of stress.
After a while, negotiating daily life is like driving a car with a dirty windshield.
It is tolerable. I cope.
Pleasure? This consists of not feeling really bad,
Interspersed with a few moments of genuine laughter and fun
Which, over the years, grows increasingly rare,
Or becomes possible only with the aid of alcohol, prescription drugs or the temporary high after sex.
If someone asked me, "Are you happy?" I wouldn't know what to say.
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