Chasing Happiness

Happiness is elusive.

It shows itself in fragments—

a laugh that lingers too briefly,

a sunset you almost forget to notice,

the warmth of a hand

that slips away too soon.

We spend our lives chasing it,

like children running after fireflies,

cupping our hands around the glow

only to find

the light escapes through the cracks.

They say happiness is a choice,

but choices do not stop

the hollow ache of night,

nor the silence that settles

when the world grows quiet.

Happiness is not absent,

but fleeting—

a ghost brushing past your shoulder,

reminding you it was real

even as it vanishes.

And maybe the point

is not to catch it at all,

but to learn how to live

in the in-between—

where sorrow builds its house,

and joy comes knocking,

if only for a moment.