There were times when I felt bad just being happy simply because I remember others who were still not. There were times when I felt sad because they are people who feel happiness is something to be jealous about and if they can't have it, so mustn't you. There were times I heard gasps for air when someone says he/she is happy for me - deep down I know they are not. Still, I learn that to be happy isn't about imposing self pity on myself but more of sensing that you still have that dignity, even for simply doing one thing right.
But, there were times when I found strangers who saw the genuine happiness I feel for others, the first thing they want to do when they saw me was to hug me. There were also times when I learnt from others' heartbreaking experiences to realise that happiness isn't mechanical, that it will work for itself, as to attain happiness is more like riding a normal bike 1km uphill for someoone like me [Read; So physically not fit].
Happiness is to be worked on. It is to be understood. It is to be felt with our heart. Like love, it is selfless. Like roses, you'd remember the smell even after they have long gone. It's forever etched in your senses, enabling you to relive it at your own command.
Isn't it a wonderful life?