Dear happiness,
Back when we were kids, we didn't think much about you. You were around most of the time, so we took you for granted. It was during teenage that you started playing peekaboo. We were only beginning to meet your counterparts. The blood-boiling rage, the envy, the clouds of frustration, the yearning, and the blend of it all that we couldn't put a name to. We did manage to hunt you down in the midst of the mess. It was still possible. But now I'm twenty-one, and you've conveniently settled in a land I am unable to step on.