I made myself unhappy measuring my love against a given norm. The truth is, we make ourselves happy in among a wide variety of loves; all count.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
We fall in love more deeply when we're unhappy.
I refuse to accept other people's ideas of happiness for me. As if there's a 'one size fits all' standard for happiness.
Happiness was not made to be boasted, but enjoyed. Therefore tho others count me miserable, I will not believe them if I know and feel myself to be happy; nor fear them.
I used to hold a unitary view, in which I proposed that only experienced happiness matters, and that life satisfaction is a fallible estimate of true happiness.
Like everybody else, I've had relationships in which I was passionately in love but was completely miserable all the time and didn't trust the person I was in love with one inch.
I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear.
It is not how much we have, but how much we enjoy, that makes happiness.
My happiness grows in direct proportion to my acceptance, and in inverse proportion to my expectations.
I weirdly do consider myself an optimist about love.
Some people, and I am one of them, hate happy ends. We feel cheated. Harm is the norm.