No Happy Endings

by Nora McInerny Purmort

I couldn’t talk about my happiness without touching the uncomfortable truth that everything I have now is built on everything I lost.

I’m happy but I don’t have my perfect Hollywood happy ending. Because it isn’t always happy, and it isn’t the end.

The cortisol is pumping, your blood pressure is banging, and your body, which doesn’t know the difference between emotional stress and being chased by a sabre-toothed tiger, is freaking the fudge out.

When you come back to your body, back to the full consciousness of what you’ve done, and what you’ve been through, you’ll feel it. It’s cold and icy and dark and heavy. It’s the unmistakable knowledge that everything is as broken as you thought it was. Especially you.

“You tell her this: don’t should yourself. And don’t let anyone should on you, either.”

I am happy. And I’m really, really fucking sad.