Happiness is a choice, they said.
I chose happiness, but it didn’t choose me. Coincidentally, the moment I start to become happy, that’s when sadness comes in to rain in my parade. Why? Is it wrong for me to be happy? Can’t I be happy like the rest? As I smile, I’d see eyes on me as if they’re questioning my happiness, whether if I deserve it or not. As I smile, they would wonder if I’m being sour, bitter, or genuinely happy. Can’t happiness be on my side for once?
Tell me, do I even deserve to be happy?