Content Is A Real Word. No, Seriously.

On Saturday night, me and the boy were hanging out with friends at their house.

At one point, I went and sat on the front porch alone for a few minutes, having a smoke. Sitting there, watching people walk by, hearing the muffled voices of my friends inside - I felt oddly content.

Content to sit there, content knowing I was going back inside to be with great people. Content in general.

It's such a rare and wild feeling for me, it was almost exhilarating. With so many day-to-day stresses and worries, I realized that I never quite reach that feeling of "Hey... this is good. Let's go with this."

I made a mental note to go inside and grab the pad of paper and pen that I always carry in my purse, and jot down key words that would remind me of that moment. I wanted to remember, to write it on here, and possibly recycle it for myself.

I never did write it down.

It came up later that night in a conversation with my friend Laura, and I knew I'd remember it today. Now I know it can happen, and things can be fine. I have love, I have friends, I have opportunities... Not bad for a pessimistic insecure bitch.

Does this mean I'll change, and everything will be sunshine, lollipops and rainbows?

Hell no.

But it'll be better. I had a glimpse.