cavatica

So I'm watching everyone else's worlds sort of collapse around them in winter's last hurrah, and though I'm sympathetic--empathetic, even--I feel progressively less inclined to be as effected by their moods. This is, I think, primarily due to the phenomenon by which my own level of happiness is directly inverse to everyone else's, so I have to say that the Melancholy Condition is applying to me less by the day. In fact, I feel valued and wanted in a way I haven't felt in a long time. Yesterday I realized that happiness and fear are brothers--though you can have fear without happiness, it seems much harder to have happiness without fear. I feel nervous and cautious and cocky and brave, and I think I am, as we speak, being coaxed into falling in love--but, strangely, I'm okay with that. Because it doesn't matter. It is what it's going to be and I'd be a fool of the worst order to reject love because I didn't attain it the way I would have planned to. The first rays of a glorious summer are stabbing at the fading gloam of the winter of my discontent, and even if it's fleeting, it gives me hope for spring. What a pleasant surprise.