I can say that I am happy.
I danced today in the kitchen, wearing a pair of leggings my older cousin gave me, purely in bliss while making tacos.
My feet still have chipped nail polish (Coral colored) from a beach time a thousand years ago it seems, and they wildly swirl.
I leap, I turn, I twist, and I dance.
I hold the spatula in my hand, singing along to my favorite song blaring from the speakers.
I am wearing an old stained t-shirt (The stain thanks to pizza) passed down from my older brother.
It hangs like a long tunic over my leggings, and my short ponytail tickles my neck.
And you know what?
I am happy.
I was always told, that happiness is choice.
I never believed it, because I guess I never felt like I was happy for the past three years.
But now I can say, that I a happy.
I have my two best friends, that are as quirky as they come.
I have my blue polka-dotted fuzzy socks, I have my video-gaming sessions with my older brother, and I have a life.
That is enough to make me happy.