ASSUMPTIONS [H.S.]

chapter 19

Today feels different.

For the first time in years, I realized that I'm starting to become happy.

Correction — starting to become delighted.

The last time I've actually felt happy is... well... about four years ago when I went to Malibu beach with my dad. It was the most perfect day.

Okay, so maybe I'm not happy, but as I was looking into my bathroom mirror today, I didn't despise myself so much. I guess you couldn't really call that happiness, but maybe I'm starting to love myself.

Thinking about it just makes me laugh, honestly.

For this particular reason, today feels different.

Maybe it's because I might've stepped out of my bed on the right foot. Or maybe it's the way my fuzzy flippers felt like a soft cloud when walking to my small kitchen cuddled up in my yellow robe.

Maybe it's the way I dared to miss all my alarms and texts because, frankly, I've got a stable job now (okay, maybe not-so-stable, since I might have to go when Clare heals her injuries). But for now, it allows me to have some days all to myself.

Or maybe it's the way my stick of cinnamon mixes perfectly with the black tea I'm currently having for late breakfast.

This is the kind of day you just have a good mood for no reason.

I take a bite out of a butter cookie, and mentally make a list of things I should do today. After a few lengthy moments of deep thought, literally nothing comes to mind.

Sighing, I take another sip out of my black tea when a quick thought invades my list of things to do. I quickly get up from my seat, and rush to my bedroom, combing through a few drawers and shelves, finally finding the sticker-charmed songwriting journal.

I plop down onto my bed, a sudden rush of excitement filling my essence as I scramble a few ideas of songs onto the glossy pages.

Once I'm content with the concept of my upcoming song, I start writing an outline of it. The feelings of my well-spent morning let the pen speedily scribble and cross out lyrics I never knew I had in me.

I do love myself, right?
I mean, to some extent, but the love should be in there somewhere.

In the range of 10 minutes, I've already written a somewhat adequate material to work with, so I find myself sitting in front of a slightly out-of-tune piano, wiping a few specks of dust from the black and white keys.

It takes me a while to create a satisfactory chord progression to fit my desired melody, though once I find one, I can't help but break a grin while dressing up and combing through my knots to get ready to record the song.

I trip over my fuzzy slippers at least three times while rushing to get my camera and setting it up along my microphone. I let out a hum of satisfaction after sitting down on the chair in front of the key panel and hitting the record button, my stack of sunglasses showing in the backdrop.

Today feels different.

"Hiiii," I drag out the 'i', feeling in an annoyingly excited mood for some reason, "I hope you're doing well! I wanted to share a song I just wrote literally two minutes ago," I lift the notebook as useless proof.

"I dunno. I just got a weird inspiration this morning, and I thought I could share it with you! It's much different from anything I've written previously, but maybe we all need a bit of change, eh? This is 'Lose You To Love Me'."

*play the song now*

"You promised the world and I fell for it
I put you first and you adored it
Set fires to my forest
And you let it burn
Sang off-key in my chorus
'Cause it wasn't yours"