"Do you feel guilty?" he asked me as we were lying in bed on Sunday Morning, "Guilty for being happy?" he said. We had just had another, in seemingly a string of phone calls the past few months, of families on the brink of disintegration.
I answered with almost no hesitation to this question, in fact I was a little perturbed if you want to know. Guilty? No, I don't feel guilty for being happy, I worked really hard to get here. I did my time in non-happy. A lot of time if you want to know. In fact, so did you... why would you feel guilty?
I don't know, he said, it just seems like we're doing so great and everyone else isn't. I clarify for him – we're not doing that great. I mean, we're both broke as hell - but we're happy if that lessens the guilt at all.
it's not the money, it doesn't matter how much money you have, it's never enough [he says this a lot by the way and he's right] you.spend.as.much.as.you.have. he says, it always works out to be that way.
It's true about the money thing and our happiness thing. We're swimming in goodness, I think, he and I. He has just a few months left in his residency. Our life together will finally begin under one roof. We're both getting a little excited for the future. But he's right. I do feel something every once in a while, like it's too good to be true and there are moments I find myself asking when is it going to blow up? I think horrible things about him being taken away from me in a horrid car crash or me falling down a flight of stairs cracking my head open to be a vegetable for the rest of my days. Something gotta give right? People don't get to be this HAPPY.
I think we're wrong. maybe. tell me it's this good. pinky swear.
And if I had all sorts of money? Maybe one of these fun finds over on Etsy. I'm kinda intrigued with the wares over on Artlab