The Pursuit of Happiness

I felt content, completely and utterly content. I felt as if I had all the energy in the world running through my veins and I wanted it all to break free so desperately. I felt as if my soul was trapped inside my body – there was this awareness of the presence in me and not just my mind and body, there was something more to life, to this. How can a body, the certain percentage of water, muscles and bones feel emotions like these? How can these things feel love, acceptance, hope, delight, joy and even pleasure? The mind is a thinker, it does not feel, it thinks. So maybe there was something more to this. No, there is no ‘maybe’, I knew.

I was the type of person who needed to feel the peace within in order to be content with my reality. I had to have this acceptance of all that I was and all that I did in order for my life to be perfect, somewhat. And I was a firm believer in myself. Life like mine, the path that I had gone, taught me that self-belief is something a strong person possessed in order to survive – without it I would not be where I was today. With emotions and mind like mine I had to have a lot of self-belief, patience and love towards myself. Otherwise …

It was an afternoon and I stood in my newly decorated living room with all these emotions running through my body like a never ending river. The room shone brightly with all kinds of colors – warm, freshly painted peachy tone shone brightly on the walls, Victorian-type love seats and recliners in white, some of the furniture shone in rich honey brown and everything else, the accessories which completed the interior – in greens. Bright red, yellow and blue flames danced peacefully in the old fireplace illuminating the room in a warm glow and I could not be more proud of all the hard work I have done today – everything was perfect.

I had this compulsion, this irresistible need to do something about the dullness of the living room last night. I was so inspired by the images running through my mind that I couldn’t sleep even with the new silky covers on my bed. And the bright sign of 2:20 AM on my phone could not bring down the excitement to forget about the sleep and start on with the work, so I started by painting all the walls in the living room until sun rose above the horizon.

I was the type of person who did almost everything wholeheartedly – I could not do something with fulfillment if I didn’t like it in the first place. The old lady at the consignment store was happy to sell me the furniture at the half price seeing my excitement and listening to my “This is just how I imagined them to be like” – the excitement was radiating from me in waves and I felt as if I was on top of the world. Everything was just the way I wanted it to be!

The dinner with Martha yesterday went very well. I discovered that she was a huge lasanya lover. Actually she was a lover for every kind of dish. Maybe the term was misplaced, but she most definitely enjoyed a good meal – she ate with passion and I felt as if I found someone who understood me perfectly. We both thought that eating was something that was not only vital for sustaining ourselves, but also something that could bring a certain types of emotions – passion, lust, delight and enjoyment. Martha also made a confession – she had a problem with overweight, saying that she never knew how to deal with her emotions other way than eating them away, literally. In that moment I saw a glimpse of longing in her brown eyes, because she still had hope, but the feeling was buried somewhere deep inside. It was my choice to open up in return, to tell her how I dealt with certain problems in my earlier stages of life.

Addiction, struggling and everything in between, we connected at some point, because when I made the decision to open up, I told her about one of the skeleton that was hidden in my closet – I had a weakness for alcohol. I used to drown all my emotions in a bottle and I was ashamed to admit it. Something changed and my life turned around completely and I haven’t picked up a bottle for six years now – I was afraid though I didn’t admit it to Martha; it wasn’t something that she needed to know just yet.

When the clock struck 2 in the morning, it was Martha’s time to go. She said that her boyfriend of four years was waiting for her at home and he didn’t like it when she stayed put late. I didn’t see a problem in it, after all, Martha lived across the street and Eric, her boyfriend, probably knew that she came over. But I didn’t say anything, we just agreed to make this small dinner-fest a habit – a certain day in the week was ours – just me, Martha and food. Simple pleasures of life.

* * *

I was standing in my hallway trying to adjust the hook of the earring, finishing up with my attire – tonight I would dine with Ruby and Constance.

It was a warm Saturday’s evening and it has already been a week since I moved into this neighbourhood. My life could not be better than it was now – I have gained some friends-to-be who accepted me with arms wide open, I had my own place which slowly but deliberately became the incarnation of my fantasies, and I had myself – calm, peaceful and content with everything. My emotions were at bay and I felt my smile return, something I haven’t done in such a long time – just smile for no apparent reason. I felt as if I was slowly rising from the ashes and there was a huge difference between the person I was upon arriving and the person I am now standing in front of the full length mirror in the dimly lighted hallway.

I had my little black dress on that hugged my curves nicely, a pair of stockings that matched the tone of my skin, white ballerinas with lovely bows on top and simple, white button-like earrings. My curly hair was done in a neat bun and my face had a little amount of make up on – a red lipstick and mascara.I was not a typical beautiful woman – my mother was Southern women born in the Caucasus, so the dark brown, thick curly hair was inherited from her side. She was a beautiful woman with eyes so dark they were almost black. Her skin tone was a typical tanned-Caucasian tone which I was often so envious of. My slightly lighter tone was inherited from my father – an almost olive-like somewhat dull tone. The color of the eyes that stared back in the reflection was also inherited from my father’s side – a light green undertone with a slight trace of golden near the pupils.

As I looked at myself now I realized that I have learned to appreciate the things I have. I used to bring myself down all the time because of my appearance thinking that all I was was simply not good enough. How come other girls had such beautiful straight hair when all I had was darned curls that apparently had a mind on their own? Why did I inherit the small frame from my parents when everyone else in my class seemed to be a head taller? Why were my breasts sometimes too small and other times too big for my own liking? There were so many negative thoughts running in my head; they were almost eating me alive. But I grew up and changed, I no longer cringed at the reflection I saw in the mirror – now I saw a beautiful young woman and I couldn’t be happier with myself and the person I grew up to be in mind, soul and heart. I still had a long road ahead, but I felt ready. For the first time in years I was ready to take on whatever life threw my way.

Little did I know that life would throw so many things my way. If I knew, I would have taken my words back.

* * *

I unlocked the front door and stepped into the darkness of my home. The dinner with Constance and Ruby went amazingly well, I found myself smiling throughout the whole time. Both women had outdone themselves with the presented meal and the atmosphere of the evening that I had no more energy left. All I wanted to do was to get into the comfort of my bed.

I realized that in the last couple of days I have opened up to these people more than I planned on. Even my friends had to earn the right for me to let my guard down. Yet with these two wonderful women I had no need to hide behind and empty face, it all came out naturally – I was who I was, who I thought was gone a long time ago – a happy woman with no cares in the world. It was refreshing, this feeling that has been stirred deep inside and I was grateful.

We did talk about family.

I learned that their last name was Leto a very uncommon surname. Reminded me of something antique – Greece or maybe even Rome. Constance laughed at this and said that she changed her surname when she married. I also learned that Constance has been married for two times, first time she had two sons who now had grown up and were successful artists and second time was a “lucky shot” as Constance said herself. I asked her if she wanted to marry once again, because third time was a charm, but she just laughed and said that if the opportunity stroke she would take it; after all, life was full of surprises.

And then we talked about my family back home and I decided that after all the kindness they have showed me, I would open up to them a little bit more – I told them about my parents and how they died in a car accident six years ago. I didn’t know what to do or who I was at that moment, because the most important thing in my life was gone. As I stirred up all the memories and emotions, I tried to hold back the tears and a small lump in my throat, it hurt too much. Not as much as it used to, but still. This was supposed to be a somewhat fun night with an excellent meal, but we talked about the past that has been long gone. Constance also opened up, she said that both of her ex-husbands had died and she knew the pain I have gone through and although those men were her husbands, they still had a special part in her heart.

I also had a sister who was two years older than me. Her name was Alona and since the day our parents died she decided to travel around the world and we haven’t spoken since. I suppose that was her way of dealing with pain and all the emotions that came with it. I didn’t know where she was now although I would love to know. We parted on bad terms, but that is how we always were – we never got along. Something about her unnerved me, made me feel uncomfortable in her presence and it looked like she felt the same way about me. Though we were biological sisters, we were complete strangers – we didn’t have anything in common. In fact I have never felt so distant with anyone I have ever known or met – the type of distance when you’re forced to be with someone in the same room or because you had the same friends and you don’t even know what to say to the person. That was how I felt about my own sister – a person that is my last family.

After opening up I felt as if a part of the weight was lifted off my shoulders and I thanked the two beautiful, welcoming women sitting in front of me. The topic about my family was something that I never found easy to talk about. It was too painful at first, it still was, but afterwards came numbness. Have I really gotten that insensible? I didn’t know. Constance and Ruby Leto started to fill in the gap in my Life and I felt myself become attached to them even more.

I put my trench-coat on the hook and started to take my shoes off when the doorbell suddenly rang. I opened the door and my eyes widened at the sight before me – Martha stood there with a tear-stained face. Her lip was boosted and she shook, trying to hold herself together.

“Oh my … Come inside!” I rushed her inside the comfort of my home and closed the door behind me. Martha stood there sobs shaking her body and her arms wrapped around her frame protectively. “Martha, what happened?” I looked at her face, taking her by the upper arms. “Who did this to you?” But she just stood there averting her gaze from my questioning eyes, sobs shaking her whole frame. “Martha, please talk to me! Who did this?” I was starting to panic.

“Please,” she sobbed, “can I stay for the night?”

I looked her in the eyes. “I will not bother you much, I’ll be gone in the morning,” she spoke, hiccuping quietly. “Martha,” I tried to approach her, but she shook my hands off and went to sit in the living room. She obviously needed help and I was at a loss of words. What was I supposed to do?

“Mar – ”

“Don’t, Helena, please. I’ll come around, I just … I need to collect myself before I do so,” she explained as I sat beside her.

“Okay,” I sighed running a hand through my bun taking out the bobby pins and letting my hair fall freely.

We sat there in silence for a while listening to the clock ticking in the background. “Would you like something to drink?” I was the first to break through the silence, but there was no answer, just a breathing that became calmer with every passing moment. I sat there letting my sight adjust to the dawn. The curtains were still open and I forgot to turn the lights on. The sun was almost gone and the nighttime approached fast.

“Have you ever been in love?” Martha’s voice was hoarse. My eyes shot up to her face but she wasn’t looking at me, she was looking at the fire dancing in the fireplace.

“No,” I said honestly looking down at my fingers. Where did that come from? I thought, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

“I just realized that neither have I,” she said with a confidence. “It was all just a lie, such a beautiful lie.” My eyes shot up at her face which was now clean of any traces of tears. The only way one could tell that Martha was crying was by taking a look at her bloodshot eyes.

“Did Eric do this?” I asked trying my best not to take the thoughts that run through my head too seriously. Martha snorted. “It wasn’t the first time nor was it the worst,” she spat.

And then it dawned on me – a man struck a woman, and not just any woman, but Martha – a woman I knew and not once. I felt sick, so blown by the thought of actual abuse. I knew that it existed I just never thought it existed. My heart was beating wildly in my rib cage and I felt pulse in my ears.

“He broke my rib last time, said that I deserved it for being fat and useless,” she told me looking at the wall. “Fat and useless. You know how that feels?” she asked me without waiting for the answer. “It feels so good now,” she whispered in delight. “It’s like I can see, for the first time in four years I see the person I was with, oh now I do see.”

I listened to her not wanting to interrupt. She needed this, to get it all out, to realize where her life has led her too. Such a funny thing we call Life.