“She used to tell me this story. About happiness. About how at one point in her life, she couldn’t find it. And she was told one day by some jackass that it didn’t exist. That it was a myth. That happiness never amounted to anything. Although she kept fighting. Looking for it. She knew that this couldn’t be it. There must be more out there for her. So, she looked him dead in the eyes and said. ‘Then never, I'll wait.’ And she did. She waited. And waited. And then I came along. She used to tell me this because I was her happiness. And she told me when I couldn’t find it, to hold on, because one
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