What does it take to learn to fly?

I'd really like to know...what does it take to be really happy?

I don't think happiness is inevitable. I truly think that we have to work to achieve it, looking for the things that make us happy during the days that we tread on this earth. I know of some things that make me happy and others that don't.

I've been really missing someone lately. In the past few days our communication has been sporadic at best, due to electronic problems. And because of this I've been sad and blue. I've been thinking about her constantly. I think about our conversations and the day we saw each other again. And those memories make me happy, but this lack of contact doesn't.

I talk with Frankie almost every day now, and whenever I talk to him he calls me Superman and Elephant (mostly because I do voices for him and he loves it). He laughs like crazy everytime we talk and he makes me smile, and for a time I'm happy.

Work holds no joy for me. I guess I'm just going through the motions, although I still give 100% if not more. It's just not in me to not try and do a great job. But even so, I have no purpose there.

Am I looking for reason, purpose, understanding? Am I trying to find meaning in words and emotions? I guess I am, but mostly I think I'm trying to do what everyone is trying to do, be happy.

I know we're all trying to find pretty much the same things as we ramble on through our lives. Moments of joy that will eventually accumulate into a general glow of happiness once we reach those final moments. But as we go through each of the moments of non-joy do we truly understand what will bring us happiness? Do we strive for that happiness with every fibre of our being? Or do we just float through life as if we were a piece of driftwood on the ocean, waiting to arrive at that sandy shore? Do we even know what will make us happy as we move through our lives? I know what makes me happy, I truly do. And this is a contradiction in and of itself.

Whenever I think about all of this my thoughts inevitably turn towards my special someone. I keep returning to the matter of this special woman because she has become such an important part of my life in so short of time. This astonishes me, but at the same time I love it. Not only am I in love with her, but she's my best friend. And I've noticed these past few days how much I miss her laughter, her voice, her smile, her eyes, her witty comments. I miss being able to constantly tell her how beautiful she is, even though I know she'll deny it always.

And I sit here staring at the computer screen thinking that maybe understanding will come. Maybe a shred of enlightenment. But no. I sit here and no answers come forth, only perpetual static. So I sit here wondering and hoping.

Wondering and hoping. What better definition of life is there?