There is no continuous happiness in this place anymore. And there was, at some stage what I call happiness. Because how could I possibly call it? A state of mind where nothing nor noone is against you. Where everything remains stationary, unchangeable, unexciting and... undisturbed. My own little state of mind where nothing is new nor old, nothing is dangerous nor safe. Nothing. A complete nothingness which I thought could be named 'happiness' as long as it doesn't cause me trouble. And it didn't. Not even once in a very long, long time.
And now I'm starting to realise, that being happy isn't exactly being undisturbed in a way I live- or exist should I say- and being caught up in a monotony of a rather peaceful life. I now see, there are only occasional moments of the so called 'happiness', which for other people may be just another minor excitement in their lives.
And I cannot honestly say that I'm utterly unhappy. While I am. In a way that I can't either express or describe. There's noone I could share that happiness with, or there's no need of rubbing it into people's faces. Let's face it, Ireland has literally and unfortunately become a place of complete emptiness to me. It was indeed, a home to me for the past 6 years. But then I learned how it feels to be in his arms, in the warmth of our own, private heaven.
I do not feel at home here anymore. With all my love to Eire, I cannot force myself to call it my home anymore. I cannot possibly call it a 'home' when he's not here.
And the longer I wait the longer the days seem to be. The harder I try not think about the fact that I must live in this state of never-ending solitary for another 9 weeks, the harder it gets for me to get through the day. The more I think of how happy I am to be his, to finally have him, the more I miss him. And it's natural, I know, but it's all I can do right now.
There's nothing else left for me to do other than to miss him, and count the days to go.
To go and finally be home. I just want to be there. In a completely new place, so unknown and so goddamn exciting as it is. In its simplicity and glory almost, I feel safe. I feel at home. And when he's there as well, then I cannot imagine a person to be happier than myself.
Being with him is something completely different, something completely new. And I can tell you one thing, there is no other man in the world that did or would make me as happy as he himself does.
I love being his, I love the hard heartbeat of his heart.
I love loving him.
And if you would ask me to define 'happiness' to you, I'd tell you his name.
And now I'm starting to realise, that being happy isn't exactly being undisturbed in a way I live- or exist should I say- and being caught up in a monotony of a rather peaceful life. I now see, there are only occasional moments of the so called 'happiness', which for other people may be just another minor excitement in their lives.
And I cannot honestly say that I'm utterly unhappy. While I am. In a way that I can't either express or describe. There's noone I could share that happiness with, or there's no need of rubbing it into people's faces. Let's face it, Ireland has literally and unfortunately become a place of complete emptiness to me. It was indeed, a home to me for the past 6 years. But then I learned how it feels to be in his arms, in the warmth of our own, private heaven.
I do not feel at home here anymore. With all my love to Eire, I cannot force myself to call it my home anymore. I cannot possibly call it a 'home' when he's not here.
And the longer I wait the longer the days seem to be. The harder I try not think about the fact that I must live in this state of never-ending solitary for another 9 weeks, the harder it gets for me to get through the day. The more I think of how happy I am to be his, to finally have him, the more I miss him. And it's natural, I know, but it's all I can do right now.
There's nothing else left for me to do other than to miss him, and count the days to go.
To go and finally be home. I just want to be there. In a completely new place, so unknown and so goddamn exciting as it is. In its simplicity and glory almost, I feel safe. I feel at home. And when he's there as well, then I cannot imagine a person to be happier than myself.
Being with him is something completely different, something completely new. And I can tell you one thing, there is no other man in the world that did or would make me as happy as he himself does.
I love being his, I love the hard heartbeat of his heart.
I love loving him.
And if you would ask me to define 'happiness' to you, I'd tell you his name.
