A Paradox

Happy memories often make me sad. Every time I think of some distant experience, I always want to go back to those moments and relive them. And when I think of how great those days were, I get scared that I’m never going to have days in the future that can add up to those memories. How can I be sure that I’ll ever have as great an experience as I did in, say, Austria?

As fun as that was, I don’t want those to be the “best days of my life”, as much as I don’t want my teen and college-age years to be my “glory days”. I don’t want to have to constantly look back on those times for happiness. I don’t want to accept the idea that it’s all downhill after this. I like to think that I’m an exceptional person who has so much to look forward to, even after the fun and games have ended.

It’s not that I’m not grateful for these days, because I really am; I love being a teenager, and being over petty drama and not really knowing the kind of person that I’m going to be. I just don’t think this is the highest moment in my life. If my level of happiness in life was a graph, I’d want it to be going up and down all the time. It can’t be straight down after this.

Do people create happiness or does it just sort of come to you? I believe that you can make the most out of any situation, just by being positive, but I’m talking about the best days. Do you work for them and work for them, and then it’s like a reward? Or do they just sort of happen? In my short experience, even the most ill-prepared, uneventful days are the ones I look back on as beautiful.

Maybe I’m just a little depressed because I want to relive my experience in Europe. I’d go through all the mistakes and embarrassing moments I had, if I could relive everything exactly as it happened. But that’s not real life I guess. My time is Europe can’t be my “best days”; that can’t be the last time I ever feel that intense happiness ever again. But I guess I can really only hope that’s the truth.


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