The Smile I Have to Wear

I'm sad today. I really am.

Perhaps the most frustrating part is that I do not know exactly why.

I keep searching my mind for something that will make me happy: somewhere to go, something to do, something to look forward to. I'm trying to make things better for myself, but happiness keeps feeling beyond my reach.

And then morning comes, and I have to go to work.

People will say hello. They will smile. They will ask how I'm doing. I'll respond, perhaps smile, perhaps say I'm fine.

Not because I want to deceive anyone, but because the truth is more complicated than a hallway conversation allows.

How do I explain that I am sad without knowing why? That I have been searching for happiness and cannot seem to find it?

So I smile and keep walking.

Before the workday even begins, I am exhausted by the effort of appearing okay.

If I don't smile, somebody might think I'm angry. If I don't talk, they may think I'm unfriendly. I have to manage not only my sadness but other people's interpretation of it.

All I want is to reach my office, sit down, and do my job.

I do not want to explain my life. I do not want to perform happiness.

Why can't a person simply have a difficult morning without explaining it to the world?

Underneath all this, I still want to be happy.

I remember laughing without forcing it. I remember looking forward to tomorrow. Happiness can feel like a place I once visited but no longer know how to find.

I don't want another inspirational lesson. Sometimes a person is simply sad.

I just want to make it, man.

Not conquer the world. Not solve everything. Just get through an ordinary day without every ordinary thing requiring extraordinary effort.

Maybe tomorrow will be different. Maybe it won't.

But let this morning be remembered as it was: a morning when I wanted to be happy, and even walking into work felt difficult.

I want to feel happy again.

Not pretend. Not perform. Not convince anyone.

Just feel it.