When Happiness Hurts

When Happiness Hurts

I have a Bucket List. Most people do, right? It became the 'thing' back in the late nineties, early aughts, and everyone was doing it. Hell, they even made a movie. So I avoided having such a thing, because,...well, I never wanted to think about my dreams, or rather, the lack of them.

Depression does that. Steals dreams. Makes your forget, and puts ambition to sleep. A horrid affliction I fight every damn day, and it still tears at me, even now....even now, when I am so damn happy, that I hurt. Happiness is painful.

Well, here's why. I'm so happy I'm getting sick.

Thank you, to everyone. An honest, and painful, thank you. I may not be Number #1, but I feel like it.

To be within touching distance of one of my all time favorite authors is a privilege and joy. To even be in the same ANYTHING as some of these wonderful people is one of the greatest joys of my life. 

And I am so damn happy I can FEEL the happy! I can feel this joy! I'm alive, somewhere, under the ennui and the pain and burden of depression, I can feel how alive I actually am, and I refuse to fall backwards under the weight of it again. I may never make Number #1, but to even be this close to the top makes me feel like I've already succeeded. 

I'm not done yet. One of my Bucket List items is, "To get a book of mine within the Top 20 bestsellers of Gay Fiction". I'll get there. One day. 

Life sucks. 
Bad things happen. 
And so do good things.
 Fight for the good, and fight through the bad.


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