A low but steady mood. I mean that post, “A Mood That Cannot Be Summoned.” It brought out some kind of resonance, I guess. It feels like a certain mood came true, a certain reality came true, and then I really could move upward again—think about what greater happiness might look like.
Then again, perhaps the flower spirit had something to do with it too. I returned to the happiness I’d had earlier, under some kind of continued support.
Whereas more recently, my happiness may have relied more on my own growth.
The happiness I feel now—it feels like soft, enveloping happiness, even though some of his patterns still repeat. My reactions. Us. And then I publicly refused to let him save face. Is that how to put it? But that also came from some kind of public provocation on his part before, borrowing lyrics and all. If this were the groveling ex trope, I’d say my version is pretty mild.
I don’t think he wants to hurt anyone. Or maybe we’re just strange. We both remind each other, in strange ways, that we won’t hurt anyone else. But what about our relationship? Will it be sacrificed, become a casualty? I typed a whole bunch earlier. I didn’t notice, and couldn’t enter it properly.
This post is cute and happy. It still seems to have some icebergs or blocks in it, but land is land, and water is water. It feels like maybe there could finally be a garden.
Happiness shared with everyone. Healing can happen when you have someone. And the someone I just mentioned meant readers.
The second time I see those three words, “having someone,” I hope I can be a little happier. Thank you. Thank you, everyone.
Cute and happy, relaxed, a weight off my chest.
I really am happy. I always feel like I can defuse a lot for him, but a pattern without happiness still feels pretty awful. Could it be that after this so-called emotional upheaval, this so-called closeness, if his ambiguous pattern hasn’t changed, then things are still just a cycle and nothing has changed?
Only my growth. Only my experience. Through teachings and the group, I’ve faced all this. I can truly feel the reality of my own growth—the reality of my growth.
Even if my anxiety becomes more obvious later, or if my current anxiety means I’m not as happy as I was just a moment ago, I laughed again while typing this. There’s a kind of gentle steadiness to it, even with a trace of sadness—not melancholy, not sorrow.
Still,
the sweet smile continues. 02:14 July 26