Happiness is . . .
The entire time I’ve been sick I’ve wanted to be that person — the person who brings tears of joy to dry eyes, the person who makes people believe in happy endings and the body’s astonishing ability to heal itself. I wanted to be that person so bad, perhaps even more than I wanted to merely do things that healthy people do. And to a certain extent I have become that person, or rather, I was that person and now I’m having a bit of an identity crisis. What happens when you are known for battling illness, then stop recovering?