Melancholy

I thought; that'll be nice, a list of things that make me happy, like that list that girl made online, of music and movies and poetry.  I uncapped my orange pen and wrote out Happy List and underlined it twice and set my pen on the paper and

drew a complete blank. I thought of songs and things I do and books I read and my mind flitted about frantically, trying to grab at these thoughts but not getting anywhere. So then I was thinking "There isn't anything that makes me happy? How isn't there anything that makes me happy?" And I was horrified to feel my eyes prickling and that sort-of headache behind my nose and my fingers were so, so cold against the paper and my stomach hurt and there was a single orange dot on the page under Happy list, so I thought, okay I like that one actor- I'll put his name down. But then I felt queasy that the first thing on my list of things that make me happy was the name of a man I'd never met, and doesn't know I exist, so I scribbled it out, and I touched my pen to the paper again so there were two dots, and neither of them had a happy thing and I didn't want to do this any more so I closed the book and put it away and figured- I'll think of something later right? Something will come to me and I'll write my list and it will be full of things that make me happy. Later.