“If I were to die right now, I would die happy.”
I was at a bar watching a play that was a cross between Chekhov’s Uncle Vanya, the Cards Against Humanity game, and the “You got iced” frat boy drinking game–as, you know, is typical for a weekday night–and one of the characters asked the audience whether we agreed with that statement. Or, rather, said to drink if it was true for us.
And I didn’t know whether to drink.
On a very basic level, I am happy right now. When I think about how things could be going a lot worse than they are–in other words, how I’m not a teenager with cancer or a parent who has a teenager with cancer–I know I’m generally content. But when I think about how my friends are all moving away to begin their happily ever afters, and I’m barely at the once upon a time part in my own story…I wonder if I really am satisfied. When I watch a movie that (let’s not even compare it to the book because it just doesn’t, okay?) depicts kids who love each other with an honesty and intensity I’m not sure I’ve ever experienced, I question whether I truly am happy with where I am.
It’s not that I think I need a partner to make my life complete. That’s why it’s tricky. I am completely fine on my own. Happy, even, sure. But I won’t pretend there isn’t a space deep inside my soul that longs to find the soul that fits in there. I won’t tell you I’m perfectly okay with the possibility that I never will find it. And I won’t be ashamed that a movie about kids with cancer makes me feel more alone than usual.
So if I died right now, would I die happy? Well, I just ate some absolutely delicious blueberries, so–yes. But I’d still prefer to have been sharing those blueberries with someone.