Happiness: My Break Up Story

Looking back on it now, I probably could have said it all in a way that would have avoided making my boyfriend come to the conclusion that I was breaking up with him. While discussing the aftermath, I gave as explanation that, "I meant it all hypothetically," to which he responded, "Well, your hypotheticalness was really hard to swallow."

Note to self: be more careful with my words.

It had been a long, tiresome week. Too much work, too little sleep--what Peter likes to call "progress," and what I like to call "nonsense." (He is right though, as progress often comes by the sacrifice of other things). However, I am an idealist and I like to think that progress can be a balanced endeavor: a good quantity of hard work and a lovely side of rest and relaxation. Nonsensical progress apart, my week contained very little of what I most dearly treasure, time talking with my Peter.

Yet it is not for lack of trying: our text history shows many messages at weird hours, a 1 a.m. missed call, a 10 a.m. “miss you, hope you’re sleeping well,” because I worked nights and was sleeping days, a “hey babe,” followed by nothing because I was trying to get ready for work and never had time to continue my message to him, several missed calls while I sadly attempted to make connection with him, knowing that he didn’t have any internet but trying anyhow, and then, at 2 a.m., an explanation from him saying, “I’m so sorry. I fell asleep waiting for the internet and am only just waking up right now.” 

So that, combined with sickness, lack of sleep, and being in the luteal phase of my cycle, (which in and of itself is enough reason for all psychosis over the next few days), all led to my desperate and hypothetical question: why do I even love you?

Cringe.

Go ahead, you can do it. 

The background messages were all about how it would be so much easier to have never fallen in love with each other, how our love is quite difficult and how there is nothing easy about it (dang that luteal phase), and ultimately were me thinking out loud and marveling over how terribly hard our relationship is. 

I remember, while reading everything that I could find about long distance relationships (disclaimer, there is a glaring lack of good quality resources), discovering this one piece of advice given by long distance almuni that went like this: "Always have a goal for when you are going to see each other next. Never let more than 3 weeks go by till you see each other again." I remembering guffawing at that and then thinking,"Will we actually be able to do this?" 

Now, don't get me wrong, I find it incredibly easy to love this guy. Loving him so wholly is the most natural thing for me, being with him is like breathing, but the actual maintence and upkeep of our love (long distance for long periods of time) is such a heart workout that I needn't exercise to have a solid cardiovascular system. It is almost nauseating to think about how long we have been doing this.

After a while, our text conversation seemed to be going no where, so I called him. (That little voice inside of you that says, "maybe I should just call," is super important to listen to, texting is rarely a good place to have these conversation.) So I did, and I let him hear me reaffirm my love for him and, most importantly, apologize for the carelessness of my hypothetical questions and ponderings. At one point I said, "My superficial happiness is not important, my happiness is a stupid concept, I AM happy, I just am not always happy" (this makes more sense in Spanish using the permanent verb form of to-be, which is ser and temporary verb form of to-be which is estar). So I am (yo soy) happy, but I am not always happy (no estoy feliz todo el tiempo).  

And then he asks me: "Why do you say that your happiness is not important? That it is stupid? If you are happy to be with me, yet seem to be unhappy at the same time, then what is your happiness? 

To which I responded: ¿......?

Well, actually, I could think of many things to say in response to the question, but my mind was overwhelmed with the realization that all of the answers collectively turned my happiness into a dependent variable that only exists should all other conditions be met. This realization was such a blow to my ego, that I could not admit it right away. My ego, which tries so hard to look good and be happy, because that is who people say that I am, was unable to process this information.

I was astounded at how self-centered my happiness was.

"My happiness," as I defined it in that moment, was: feeling good about msyelf, having things figured out, doing a good job, feeling satisfied, getting married, being somewhere else, traveling, etc. etc..

Basically: circumstantial.

I think we could all easily identify with these things and recognize that our natural response to these occurences should, in fact, be happiness. But I feel it is dangerous to only be happy because of something else, and if that something else doesn't happen, then I am not happy and my unhappiness affects all other aspects of my life. It is dangerous because it threatens to poison our minds with the belief that good things must always be in abundance and must always be new so that we can be happy.

Last year's happiness no longer works. 

It is dangerous because truly good and wonderful things can be discarded when you reach a point of believing that they no longer serve your self-centered purposes. 

Case in point: the best relationship you ever had begins to require a lot of hard work, a lot of dedication, and supplies very little instant gratification. Suddenly, it no longer appears to be an object of happiness, but rather a reminder that others are enjoying the same thing without the same effort. Although this is a twisted, and not usually true, perspective, it needn't be true to make you second-guess yourself and throw aside what is so good, but so hard, in exchange for what appears to be much easier, and supposedly with the same amount of satisfaction. 

So I told him, once my mind had finished reeling, that my happiness, circumstantially, is many things. One of those things would be to always have him near, but that "acquiring" this would not gaurantee consistent happiness. In fact, we could one day be together and, after a while, if I do not change the foundation of my happiness (joy), then I would be at risk for being unhappy in the very thing that had previously promised it to me. 

So now what? Resign myself to an existence of happiness that comes and goes, that is as statistically awful as a dependent variable, that never truly satisfies? Or, discover that there are many types of happiness in life? Such as the reactionary type which responds to good things happening, the type which is based off of gratitude towards God for all that comes my way, both good and bad, and that which understands that laughter/joy are side effects of a cheerful heart, which is cultivated by perception almost as much as it is by what actually goes on (aka, seeing the glass half full). 

His response: "Work on it."

Something so simple but to the point. He did not lecture me about it, nor did he shrug his shoulders as if it were a lost cause (not that I would have even seen his shoulders being shrugged if he had done so!). Instead, he practically and pointedly challenged me to do something. Just work on it. 

Working on happiness is not some farce. It is not a show where we try to conjure up a happy face anytime we feel the opposite. I also truly believe in living out emotions, grieving, lamenting, being confused, etc.. We needn't be fake, 'cause nobody wants fake happiness. 

This is certainly going to be an endeavor of gratitude and grace. Because I can easily be thankful for lots of things, but if I feel slighted by someone else's behavior or attitude, and do not extend grace to them for that moment, then of what use is my gratitude? 

So no, I am not breaking up with my boyfriend, hypothetically, literally, nor theoretically--in none of "ally" ways. What I AM breaking up with is the false belief that others are responsible for my happiness and that, if all conditions are not met, my variable happiness cannot exist. I would consider it quite grand to read an academic study in which it is stated: "The independent variable indentified in this study was Maryah's happiness. Untouchable, not influenced by the surrounding whirlwind, totally wild and free." 

That would be nice. 

In conclusion, I would like to address two important points. 

Firstly, happiness/joy is not a selfish thing. As previously explained, happiness can be based on selfish motives, but it is not selfish to be happy. It is unfortunate that we often feel entitled to happiness, but in reality, I believe that this sprouts from a deep-seated need for joy that is based on something quite unshakeable. 

Secondly, and this being the most important of all: Jesus endured an excruciating death on the cross for what? For the joy set before Him. If the joy of uniting us to Him through His death is the reason He did it all, then it can be argued that joy in Him is certainly His desire for each and every one of us on a daily, moment-by-moment basis. My "working on happiness" is not going to be some "personal journey to sustainable happiness", but rather a return to the basics of loving God and loving others (just as you love yourself) and allowing that to work within my heart till there is less of me, (the me that is self-consumed), and more of Him and the joy of His salvation. That is all there is to be said.

Happiness need not be complex unless you want it to be. It can be as simple and refreshing as remembering who you are in Christ: loved. redeeemed. secured. healed. made to be His people: people of joy.