notes on bliss

Do you ever have that time or moment or second, even, that you look back on and think to yourself, Man, was I happy then or what? It's the strangest thing--there are particular moments I can recall where I remember being perfectly happy and content with life.

Like that time in high school. The boy that I thought I was smitten with asked me to go to the movies with him. I don't think I paid any attention to the movie, on account of being so excited that I was at any movie with this boy. I remember it was the day before Easter, and the thought of being with the boy I liked in a movie theater and the fact that the next day the house would be full of family and friends celebrating . . . . . well, it was a whole lot of happiness for my teenage-self to handle. I was fidget-in-my-seat-trying-to-contain-my-happiness sort of happy. I can distinctly remember thinking to myself, Man, am I happy right now or what?

And last night, as I lay in bed, reading a book beside my open bedroom window with Stella purring at my side, the scent of lilacs from the blossoms below drifted in with the chilly spring air and filled my room from top to bottom with their perfume-y scent.

Even though it doesn't always last, I felt deliriously happy, in that moment.

These are the things I want to write about, so that I'll not forget them.