Despite all outward evidence to the contrary, my fantastic mood continues. I mean, I've become even more aloof around my friends, sometimes I don't bother to go out at all. My tolerance for idiotic behavior has never been lower. I tend to blow off people who try to talk to me.
It's not that I don't care. And it's not even that these people are not relevant. Even though they're not, for the most part.
It's just that I know, for an absolute fact, that none of them are going to make me feel any better than I already feel. It's simply not possible. That's not to say that they will make me feel worse - it could be a status quo type of thing.
But, why take that chance? It just doesn't seem worth it. There's no reward with that risk, because I already have everything I could ever need. Wants are, of course, a different matter entirely. And my wants still vary. I kind of hope that they'll continue to vary, because I can imagine that, by doing so, they could inject some much needed drama into my life. I'd really hate to get bored with all this happiness, though the irony of it would definitely elicit a chuckle or two or a million.
Almost nobody knows me anymore. The vast majority of the people, who think they know me, they only know me as I was for the past couple of years. They've never seen me like this.
I'm no longer a sad guy who might get into a good mood every now and then, shocking friends and misleading strangers.
I'm an actual happy person, and feeling bad or sad or mad - even though those feelings will certainly continue to make appearances, those feelings are no longer the norm for me.
It used to be that even the tiniest things would send me plummeting back into the abyss. Not now. Now, I'm possessed of my own intrinsic buoyancy.
The weight of a lost friendship?
The burden of mounting work pressures?
The near-constant load of financial obligations?
This too shall pass.
I am happy, dammit.
And, also, a little surprised that the shock of this transformation didn't kill me.