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I think there was a mistake made in the universe, and I was accidentally born into a human body. Because I want to be everywhere, all the time, and linger in the air. I think I should have been born a concept, like a feeling. What kind of feeling was I meant to be? I think something bittersweet; the kind that you feel when you listen to a folk song about loneliness, and it makes you feel less alone. Or the sweet melancholy of acceptance you feel when you find out that the one you love is happy with someone else. But you smile. You smile when you think about other people’s happiness. And their happiness makes you happier in a way, even though you’re sad. That’s the feeling I was meant to be.

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