Sappy?

I've had a few moments recently when I thought "wow, my life is awesome." and then a stabbing pain shoots through my gut and I feel like I might retch. I've discovered, in this new happiness, that the happiest moments are the most painful. I really don't think I can explain it, so I'm not going to try. It's another of the many dualities of grief.

Perhaps happiness isn't even the word for it. Synonyms for happy include words like "lighthearted," "untroubled," and "satisfied." I am none of these things. I am at times something, something perhaps undefinable because of its profound complexity but it isn't purely sad. It isn't pure agony or pure pain, which is so different.

My man was trying to come up with a word for it. "Sappy," he proposed, marrying the words sad and happy. "No," he mused "that's already a word." "Had doesn't work either" Apparently a simple melding of the two simplest words for our state of being isn't going to work. It would be nice to have a word. To be able to say "I'm ______." but I don't think it's possible. There are too many dips and folds is the tapestry of life now. Nothing is linear anymore.

Maybe I'm just deeper... deeper into grief and loss and overwhelming love. I don't know.

Until next time...