finding happiness

burning bright

ᴛʀɪɢɢᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ɪɴ ᴏᴘᴇɴɪɴɢ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ

:]

george has found that, unless his emotions are sad, they don't feel real.

as soon as there is some kind of goodness in his mind, he feels like he's separated from his body. it's like the world refuses happiness to find him at the same time as reality.

being happy really is like a flash of light. it's bright and blinding and it startles him so much that he doesn't realise what's happening until the light has gone again. it renders him so confused that his mind slips away and he doesn't get to experience the moment for what it is.

that's how it felt when he met dream for the first time.

maybe he could blame the feeling on the floridian sun shining high in the sky, reflecting in the camera's lens and shining off the spotless house windows like a sea of light.

that doesn't explain why the light kept shining when he was tugged into the house and given a tour, but it still feels like a better description than confessing he can't feel his own emotions like he knows he is expected to.

blaming the sun seems fairer than blaming his heart's inability to accept happiness as anything other than a fleeting blink.

the brightness had faded to a dimmer glow when george had followed sapnap and dream back downstairs. he had no reason to feel sad again, but he did. it washed over him so naturally, like sinking back into the warmth of a familiar bed. a death bed, no less, but he almost finds comfort in the familiarity of his sadness.

he loathes it, without question, but there is some sort of safety in the blanket of creation he has been building over so long. he wants to be happy more than anything, but even then he worries if joy will be so alien that he hates it. he craves it so badly but george isn't sure he's experienced it enough to even know if he'd like it.

he was happy as a kid, he is sure, but trying to think back on happiness now feels like reminiscing on a pain you once had. the pain is imaginable, but you can't recreate it in your mind. you know it hurt, yeah, but the pain doesn't come back when you remember it, you can't relive it from the memories.

that's how george feels with happiness - he knows he's felt it but he can't remember what it's like. he can't pull it from the back of his mind and make himself smile like other people can.

it's one of the reasons that he's struggling to smile right now, as he sits down at the kitchen island with dream and sapnap. that, accompanied by the overwhelming feeling that he's done something wrong. he can't help but feel on edge when both of his best friends are looking at him like an anvil is about to drop.

"are you still hungry?" dream asks, and george can tell he's dragging something out, putting something off. if his tone doesn't give it away then the quiet, unimpressed sigh he receives from sapnap definitely does.

george ate a mcdonalds on the journey back. it was definitely a well-deserved meal and he had been so buzzed at the time that it wasn't difficult for him to find the motivation to get it down. "no, i'm good," he assures, genuinely still full. he hopes that, with the presence of his friends, big tasks like eating and showering will become easier. he's hoping that constant company will act as motivation to carry him through the tides of everyday life.