It wasn’t the day I lost my virginity. Could it have been the day when I finally learned how to use my unchasteness? I don’t even know what day that was.
I used to be good at remembering dates and phone numbers. I remember that much.
Was it the day I got accepted into university? It was what I felt I needed to do after high school. I remember being excited when opening the reply letters. It wasn’t when I graduated.
It might have been the day I got my first car. I don’t think so, though. I was melodramatic then and created unnecessary drama when looking for a car. Getting the car just put that all to rest.
That was all some time ago now. I don’t know what the last happy day I had was.
It’s not that I don’t experience happy moments — I’ve had a good number of those — but that they aren’t of the type to make a entire day memorable. Happiness is less of a state of being and more of a passing feeling. I find the better days are the ones when I feel content.
Happiness fades in time and memory. Contentment builds slowly and sharpens the vividness of memories. The calm of contentment puts my mind at ease. The excitement of happiness agitates my brain, hindering my ability to reason and remember. Perhaps that’s why those days are hard for me to recall.
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