There’s that feeling when you’re
just so utterly happy and nothing can ruin it.
But because you can’t share that
happiness with that certain person at that certain time, you keep all the
happiness inside and it makes you all bubbly and your tummy rumbles (or maybe
you’re just hungry) and you fall to the ground and kick your feet in the air
and stare at the bed frame with those big sad-kitty eyes and think so hard in
order to push the happiness into your subconscious dream state.
Then you wake up eight hours later
remembering your brilliantly happy dream that wasn’t real but feels real and
all you can do is tell your dentist and your Chinese tutor and your mom
(especially your mom) and your sister and everyone you talk to.
You say, “Oh my goodness, I had the
most perfect dream” and then you tell them but they don’t ever quite understand
how very perfect it was.
But you know and you’re happy and
the happiness overflows into everything you do and you get lots of work done on
this happy energy and you cheer up the days of others every time you sneeze
your happy juice on them and you smile happy germs to everyone and make other
people happy. But they only have a portion of your happy.
