// I tried to scream but my head was underwater //
Humming thoughtfully, Maea turned that notion over in her own head, tasting the thoughts it brought on. In large parts she agreed, it was a sentiment she shared.
"Someone told me recently that happiness is a constant work in progress," she replied. "A choice you have to make over and over again. Lately, I have been thinking that contentment is closer to true happiness. Not the incandescent moments where everything is perfect, but rather that sense of peace within that some seem to have, that let them rise back up again when they stumble. I don't even know what to call it. Acceptance? Self worth? Security?"
Whatever that inner peace was called, Maea wanted it. She had come searching for it as she searched for roses, and thought she may have glimpsed its semblance in the hazel eyes of a soldier. Perhaps, if she lingered long enough beneath these trees and these wavering stars, she might learn something about happiness she had not known before.
"Someone told me recently that happiness is a constant work in progress," she replied. "A choice you have to make over and over again. Lately, I have been thinking that contentment is closer to true happiness. Not the incandescent moments where everything is perfect, but rather that sense of peace within that some seem to have, that let them rise back up again when they stumble. I don't even know what to call it. Acceptance? Self worth? Security?"
Whatever that inner peace was called, Maea wanted it. She had come searching for it as she searched for roses, and thought she may have glimpsed its semblance in the hazel eyes of a soldier. Perhaps, if she lingered long enough beneath these trees and these wavering stars, she might learn something about happiness she had not known before.
Maea
// They called me weak, like I'm not just somebody's daughter //
