I’ve wasted my life trying to be happy.
F*ck, I’ve relentlessly stalked and chased after Mr. Super-Sexy, Ever-Elusive Happiness, but I’m done.
I’ve come to see something:
He’s not worth it.
I deserve more. You deserve more.
We all deserve so much more.
I don’t want him.
So, I’m telling him to stop with his seductive stares because he’s actually an empty-headed jerk. He’s so flirty, wrapped up in pretty gold wrapper, and it’s nice, it really is nice.
But, pretty gold paper isn’t gonna do it for me. It’s great and shiny and sparkly but it’s not what I’m going to live for.
I want more.
I crave more.
I’m thirsty, and…
I don’t just want to smile lamely, laughing and giggling, bubbling with saccharine sweetness.
I don’t want to be content or comfortable.
I don’t want to pretend I’m okay when I’m simmering inside with anger and am so, so, so close to screaming violently in your ear.
I don’t want to go to your Friday night parties, smiling and nodding politely while nibbling on stupidly fancy appetizers indulging in your superficial small talk.
No, that’s not my goal.
I want freedom. I want depth. I want to live as f*cking intensely and authentically as I can.
Happiness won’t cut it for me.
I want the whirling gusts of wind to whip around my hair, tasting my cheap cherry-lemon shampoo in my mouth as I run wild through sea-like fields of tall, blonde grass.
I want to feel the warm sun embrace me, growing hotter and hotter until I pour its sweaty kisses from my forehead.
I want to lay alone in the dirt, feeling the earth beneath me, leaves in my hair, crunchy pieces of musky ground covering my hands, getting under my nails.
I want to dance under the winking, twinkling stars, my body moving at dangerous speeds.
I want to drive fast as a falcon, blasting Lana del Rey and screaming to Dark Paradise.
I want to shriek, sob, and shout when I’m angry, sad, jealous, vulnerable, in pain.
I want to live fiercely, wildly, passionately and as f*cking freely as possible.
I want to feverishly question everything, never satisfying my desperate thirst for knowledge.
I want to be unapologetically me, cursing real filthy sometimes, waxing real romantic sometimes, but never, ever editing myself to f*cking please you.
I want to listen to my feminine wisdom, my intuition, my gut: never taking lightly my opinions, needs or desires.
Happiness is not enough.
I want to smile and I want to taste that joy but it won’t define me. Or drive me.
It’s not enough.
I want freedom.
I want to feel everything. I want the pain, the joy, the disappointment, the jealousy, the hatred, the euphoria, the sadness, the grief and everything in between.
I want it all.
Oh, sweet freedom, link your arm in mine and let’s frolic forever under magical moonlight in mysterious open fields.
Let’s not settle for happiness.
It’s not enough.
Happiness doesn’t make my soul soar, my spirit ignite, my insides buzz with electricity.
I will scream and live and die for freedom.
I will never settle for happiness.
I want and need and desire and thirst for—
Feel that delicious word on your tongue and taste it.
Now, I soar—
into the fiercest, fastest winds, feeling more alive than ever.
Love elephant and want to go steady?
Editor: Renée Picard
Photo: Google images labelled for reuse