I don’t imagine that many understand, understand the situation that I’ve been put in.
It’s nothing, really.
I’m too happy, too content and filled with joy. I’m too willing, too gratified. Not in the least ever anxious or disagreeable.
And I know that they’ll be coming for me now, coming to take away all of my happiness, coming to make my life miserable and disheartening. They want to make it even with everybody else, because no one can have this much ebullience. It’s a game they’ve created. (‘they’ meaning the people up above. Not god, or angels or anything like that… but something different. Something no one notices.) It’s like trading around the negative and positive feelings.
Sometimes they can get it wrong. Sometimes they mess up and someone gets hurt. Like those people that they show in movies and television and write about in books, the ones that they never show happening in real life because it would hurt too much. About people trying to commit suicide.
Like the red gooey sticky blood that oozes between the slits in their wrists, staining the bathroom tile and puddling till they are drained. Or the scraggly rope that wraps around their necks as they try to tie it so tight it strangles them till they’re gasping for breath, coughing and clawing for every inch of anything around them. Or the heavy boulder that crushes their ribs till no matter how much force they try to conceive to pull themselves out of the river they’ve drowned themselves in, it’s impossible to reach the surface.
They don’t mess up often.
But I’m on the opposite side. Not too depressed. Not too afflicted. Not too dampened.
But instead too satisfied.
So what happens on this end of the spectrum? We aren’t swallowed up by some sweet giant peppermint candy. We don’t get hugged by cuddly teddy bears and saddled up onto the back of a unicorn running a rainbow runway in the sky.
If the negative is so extreme, then why is the positive not?
I wish it was.
I want it to be.
But no.
Nothing.