What We’ve Been Looking For
Happiness is the drug all the addicts are looking for; its high is the one they're obsessed with. The high always comes in fleeting moments, a smile, a book, or seeing the first flake of snow. Some are longer than others, most only last a few seconds. Though, the journey for happiness is more harrowing than it's worth.
She found her happiness in a world of water, trees, and bugs. A place where nature is law, and she's nothing more than a visitor in the cruel woods. Her happiness is in the splash of a wooden paddle, and the soft hum of a canoe gliding through the murky water. It manifests on the vauge yellow and red maps telling her where to go.
The coveted high came with laughter around a campfire, and hiding in a tent at sunset, hiding from the misquitos. Every morning brought a new dose, and as the days went on, the dosaged uped. Each night she went to bed, already buzzing for the next day. The weight of a canoe on her shoulders and the cheering as she walked the rocky trails were better than any drug in the books. The leadership she had and the friendships she build gave her the so precious happiness she'd spent years looking for in vain.
But nothing could beat the rush she got when she was alone. In the woods, on a lake, or even in the lat, was the peak of her high. While swatting away bugs in a tent or paddling down a lake with her crew was good, being on with nature was great. She had time to think, to sing, to speak, and to reflect; something she couldn't do around the buzz of the city, but her thoughts were clear as crystals with the buzz of the bugs in the background.
Of course, all good things must end and after a mere three weeks in the Wilderness of Minnesota, she had to leave. Civillian life was rough and the next few days were the withdrawl she was dreading. Days droned on with class, and work, and stress. When she could find a minute to herself, she spent it longingly looking at her maps, smiling at the memories.
She turned to a zombie in those days. For weeks, she was empty, a husk of who she wanted to be. Depression and angst threatened to end her, end any chance at the happy she felt, but it changed. She found happiness in a new place; in a new person.
He was her happiness. Even if he didn't realize it at the time, he pulled her back from a ledge. This unassuming, asshole of a person, was the one to give her back the drug. Isn't it funny how the ones we despise end up helping the most?
It was inevitable for her to fall for him. He was her drug, her happy, her love. But it was never enough, never quite right. At night she would fall asleep, feeling empty as she drifted off into a dreamless sleep. It was enough, she told herself. I can make it, she lied each night. She was getting used to him, the high, his happy and it was destroying her. The girl lied to herself for months until she couldn't take it anymore. Until what used to make her happy, made her feel nothing. She just wanted to go back to her paradise, and get back the high she had.
She left him.
The shell came back.
She missed him.
She found a new happy. She forgot about him and went back to her paradise. But he didn't forget her. For him, she was his paradise; he got his high from her. The scales tipped and his Sad took over. But she was happy, and that's all that mattered to him. Eventually he had to find a new Happy. The high would come back.
He just knew it would... Right?
He only hoped it would.