I’ve been thinking a lot about happiness lately—what it really means and what truly makes me happy. Because honestly, I haven’t been able to put a pin on it.
But then there are moments like this. A good book, a cup of tea, and a Nutella crepe that feels like a sweet little bonus—making the whole scene look effortlessly aesthetic. And the cherry on top, the part that makes my heart still for a moment, is watching the rain fall through the tall glass doors. The sea beyond them, restless and wild, moving with a force that can’t be tamed.
This makes me happy.
But what’s sad is knowing it’ll end. The rain will stop, the moment will fade, and I’ll have to go home. And lately, I’ve hated being alone. I find myself thinking back to the days when life felt full. When rain meant buying cream puffs and heading to my best friend’s place to watch Love, Rosie—for the third time, probably.
Back then, I had a life surrounded by people. But the demons I was fighting eventually took over, and I lost them along the way. Still, I wouldn’t change a thing.
It just makes you pause sometimes—how the best years can slip by so quietly, you only realize they were the best once they’re gone.
She Was Sea 