Happiness comes too easily for me.
By this I don't mean that I never have lows, or that I'm never in a funk that I just can't seem to shake. Oh trust me I have shit days, and shit moods, and shit feelings too. What I mean is that it's not very hard for me to find happiness around me. I can find pleasure in simple things, I'm pretty low maintenance when it comes to being entertained. Give me someone to talk to, or even not talk just to sit with, that I enjoy and I am quite content. Spontaneous adventures thrill me, and I seem to have a knack for making simple things like a trip to the store an adventure. I'm not fickle when it comes to things that can make me happy. I truly take joy in tiny little gifts that only people looking for them will receive. Even then most people probably wouldn't even understand why something like gusts of breath-taking wind would make my heart race. But I love it.
The point of all this rambling? Mostly just to say that while it can be a nice character trait to possess, it can also be exhausting. You see I'm a "what-if'er" and I have a big imagination. So I get caught up quite easily in imaginings of possibilities of what if's and wondering "would I have been happy?". Problem is my reaction usually to these wanderings of the mind are "I probably could have". I realize that happiness isn't hard for me. Which leads to "Should I have done this or that? I could have been happy either way so how do I know it was the right choice?".
For this reason lately I find myself wishing I was harder to please. Then maybe it would be easier to dismiss possibilities or chances missed because I would be easier able to say "Oh no way, I would have been so unhappy". Even so as I type that out it sounds ridiculous.
It's really just a mess, a mess of too many beautiful possibilities.