A girl named Happy

she just lay flat on the floor. still.

looking at the ceiling. she couldn’t move. She knows this feeling, it was about a year ago since she felt this intense fear inside her. She couldn’t put words to describe it… but one thing’s for sure about this feeling – she feels that she’s not gonna make it.

Her life has been a series of cycles. And by now, she knows the triggers – people and money. People who leave her after everything they’ve taken. People who take and take and take, but never give. And just like a disease, she pushes on with these people… with an unidentified desire for her care and attention to be given back. She was left alone again. After a year of circling her life around their plans. After a year of constant need to feel her value to him. He left her dry.

How could a girl be called Happy, when everything she experiences is darkness? What is the purpose of her life? Everytime she stands up after being beat down, it takes a toll on her. Everytime she stands up, she is wounded; and the wounds never heal.

This familiar feeling – having nothing to look forward to… wanting to go back to bed when she wakes up… its the biggest fear of her life. Because she never wanted to be back here in this same place… a year after getting better. But now she’s back in this same place. The problem is… she doesn’t have the means to get help. So she lay there, still, her mind slowly growing the fear within.

Dearest Happy, things will be okay.


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