Poem From Happiness For Beginners Novels & Stories

ALESSA'S POV I used to think peace came from people. From being chosen. Being loved right. Being seen. But sitting here, cross-legged on the living room couch, my laptop balanced on one knee, I realized something: Peace didn’t come from being chosen. It came from choosing myself. And happiness? It wasn’t a reward you earned through suffering. It was a free gift you chose to unwrap every day. The soft tapping of my keyboard echoed through the quiet room. The lights were low, the air unmoving, and outside, the night had folded its arms around the estate like a velvet coat.

she says. "It sounds peaceful." "Same thing." I look at her. Really look. The woman I once trusted with everything — and then nothing at all. "Are you happy?" I ask. "I'm trying." She meets my eyes. "That's the same thing, isn't it? Trying and being happy?" "Maybe." "That's what I'm learning. That happiness isn't a destination. It's just... moments. Choosing them. Holding onto them." "When did you get so wise?"

I can't know your pain But I know your happiness Trust me and come to me Share my happiness with me Without you, it's all vain Because you're mine and I'm yours We are each other's happiness. 'Should we go see what's up?' 'Nah, let's just mind our own business.' My mind was fighting a battle with my heart first thing in the morning.

The moments when she felt whole. She picked up her pen and began to write. I never thought I would be happy. I spent so long being scared. Scared of losing Silas. Scared of losing the apartment. Scared of losing myself. I did not think I deserved to be happy. But Ezra taught me that happiness is not something you earn. It is something you choose. Every day, I choose him. Every day, he chooses me. And every day, we build something new together. I do not know what the future holds. I do not know if we will stay in this apartment or move somewhere else. I do not know if I will ever publish my story or keep it hidden in a drawer.

Maybe he had never been treated like that before, but slowly, the calls stopped. The messages also went silent. At last, I could start adjusting to a new life. At first, it felt strange being in an unfamiliar place and a brand-new job all by myself. However, little by little, I realized I could actually find joy in it. Life began to feel meaningful and purposeful again. The part of me that had been suppressed for years was finally breaking free. Sometimes, though, my thoughts would drift back to the past, to those unforgettable moments that had carved themselves into my heart.

Outside the window, the moonlight flowed like water. And here, in his arms, I felt the pulse of a new life growing within me. This was the weight of happiness. Heavy, yet incredibly comforting. (The End)

If anyone would ever wrap their arms around me and make me feel safe again. Life is like a thunderstorm—unpredictable, sudden, and often unkind. But I’ve learned that happiness is not something that arrives at your doorstep wrapped in a bow. It’s a choice. A slow-burning, deliberate act of resistance. And when you choose it - when you really let yourself choose it - it seeps into the cracks of you. It gives you light in the places you thought would never be warm again. I am not saying I am happy spending time with him but...

Chapter 15 “And she embraced the chaos as it painTed her life with purpose” JH.HARD Will I ever be happy? Will I ever be fine? I lost my hope within this time. I tried my best to be okay, But I never felt that anyway. I was on my way to a new beginning, Then this depression started getting in. Today my tears slowed for a moment And the words began to flow,so I want to talk to you mama about all the things that I think you should know

--- The Breath That Begins From that first pulse came warmth. From warmth came color. From color came motion. The Flow unfolded like a flower blooming within eternity— petal after petal of radiant possibility. Each one shimmered with potential stories, ready to be spoken into existence. And far above, in the soft cradle of light that had not yet learned to be a sky, the first drop of memory fell— a fragment of love that refused to fade. It landed in the center of the newborn Flow and spread outward,

And some in dreams assurèd were Of the Spirit that plagued us so; Nine fathom deep he had followed us From the land of mist and snow. And every tongue, through utter drought, Was withered at the root; We could not speak, no more than if We had been choked with soot. Ah! well a-day! what evil looks Had I from old and young! Instead of the cross, the Albatross About my neck was hung. - by ST Coleridge. *********** Hey Readers, Remember one thing in life- never lose hope. Life is short but the problems in it are heavy. But that does not mean there is no happiness. Try to find happiness in small things. Sometimes luxuries paled in front of simple actions.