It’s been a long time since I could say without hesitation “I feel happy”.

In the time since Dave died, I’ve laughed and enjoyed myself, but always I felt that underlying layer of sadness and shock that dampened everything. It made even laughter a bittersweet act. How could I laugh when he was gone?

Lately, though, I’ve felt happy. Not tinged with despair, not lost in a fog of numbness, not laughing through my pain, just simply happy.

Along with the happy though, is a little bit of the sensation that I’m at the top of a roller coaster ride. It feels great up here. I want to stay here and feel this high. I want to see the view of the world below, safe on my high perch. But being this high means returning to earth. It means coming down and sometimes that coming down can be more scary than just staying down there. 

But that’s okay because this time it feels like I simply don’t care anymore about the fallout of feeling good. I don’t care if announcing my happiness to the universe means it might be snatched away from me. 

For once, it feels too good to care about what might happen. It only matters that whatis happening is that I’m feeling happy. And I can’t stop thinking that Dave, wherever he is, is ecstatic too. His girl is happy. It’s all he ever wanted.