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.