Happiness.
All in a single moment,
you know you are content.
It could be anything, little things.
Like the sound of the ocean, a wave crashing on the shore.
Or the sound of his voice telling you to look in his eyes.
Or the hug of a friend that you’ve missed for a long time.
All different moments giving the same effect.
Never lasting, temporary, existing only in the memories that linger in your mind. Memories of the past, of things you can’t get back.
Sadness.
Longer than a moment,
more of a realization.
It could come and haunt you, reminding you of the things you have lost.
And it captivates you, possesses you, changes you.
And you know it at first, but then you get used to it,
welcome it even.
You grow comfortable with crying yourself to sleep, and maybe taking a pill or two…
or three.
And you come to wonder if one day you’ll take them all at once.
The sadness is there, constantly.
And it always will be.
That’s the difference between sadness and happiness.
Happiness is composed of moments that, inevitably, end.
But those moments, so beautiful, so worth the pain that may come.
Come what may.
If there is love, there is hate.
If there is light, there is day.
And if there’s a gun, there’s a target.
And everything has it’s opposite.
And there’s another side of the moon that we will never see standing outside our homes, no matter how much we gaze at the sky.
But in the light of the moon we see the good, and with a gun in our hand we see the bad.
But if there is hate, we must know,
there will always be love.

And what is love if not the flame to the fire that ignites the happiness within us? What a bittersweet feeling that question leaves, asking me to see the truth. That happiness would not exist without sadness. That love would be meaningless without hate. That we wouldn't need the gun if we didn’t have to protect ourselves. That we see enough hate in the eyes of our enemy that death would be acceptable.
That life wouldn't be life without death.