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I don’t find myself happy, on the whole.

I have friends, stable income, really all you need to survive. So begs the question; what am I missing?

When I was younger, I wanted to be a poet, soldier and king. Everything was interesting, everything was within my grasp. Of course, I am now only a soldier, having acted too late on any of my other interests. I’m not particularly dissatisfied, though. The military industrial complex always had a strong appeal. Organized, calculated, and optimized violence is one of humanity’s most inalienable traits.

—

A man sits at a marble counter, drinking some expensive wine he doesn’t remember the name of.
A woman stands, gazing down at the city street far below her.

“Are you happy?” The man asks
“Of course I am, honey.”
“Seriously? From head to toe, there isn’t anything you feel regret about? Anything you despise?”
“…your drunk, and of course not. I’m living the life I’ve always wanted.”
“That’s some bullshit. Sit down, drink, then tell me if that’s still so.”
“No, I’m not going to drink, and you’ve had enough yourself.”
The man downs the rest of his drink.
“Humour me, if even just once in this marriage.”
She takes a seat beside the man. Maintaining a notable distance. The man slides her the bottle.
“I’m only having a bit, though.” The man waits an excruciatingly long time before replying

“So? Tell me, are you truly happy? Head to toe, is there not a regret in you?”
“Of course not”
“And that’s why I can’t do this anymore.”
“No matter how I try, how I poke and prod, you don’t ever share. I’m amazed I kept you around so long, let you leech off me for so long. You spend your days spending, do you have nothing else to do?”