My girl has yet to earn herself a nickname. That’s okay, though.
Today marks 12 weeks for us. 12 awesome weeks.
It’s kinda like babies. When do you stop counting their age in weeks and go to months? When do you stop counting their age in months and just say that the kid is two?
Lots of thoughts. I’ll go right to the important part.
The thought that keeps tumbling in my head is that while I thought I knew what happiness was before (albeit briefly), I was totally wrong. Completely wrong. Dead wrong.
Well, not exactly.
I was happy, in a small, limited way. In a very particular set of circumstances, under very specific conditions, I was happy. If that makes any sense.
This? This is totally different. This is happiness that transcends… I don’t even know what. It’s just on a totally different level. I’m not happy only when XYZ is happening. I’m not happy most of the time, until ABC happens. I’m just happy. There is no anxiety whatsoever attached to this happiness. This happiness is not conditional.
I don’t know how else to describe it.
And it’s all so damn easy.