[ WP ] `` There 's a way to be really and truly happy . It 's not a secret and yet you can not be told . ''

I never understood my mom whenever she took a chance to repeat it. I didn ’ t realize how much those words would affect me until I truly understood their meaning. 
 
 When I was young, obviously happiness was being accepted by your peers, doing everything everyone else was doing. It got me into a ton of trouble because, as I figured out later, I hadn ’ t exactly fallen into the right crowd of people. A quiet, short, geeky kid like me only ended up shoving too far and with a snap temper, I was more often in trouble than not. It continued until partially into my first year of college: drinking, parties, and generally doing everything and anything I wanted. 
 
 Whenever I saw mom, she ’ d repeat that saying for me again until it sunk in for the second time. 
 
 My second shot at the idea came with the realization that I was usually dead broke and having to rely on the kindness of others for things. Or on the little bit of extra I got via grants and loans. Money was obviously the way to get happiness. You wouldn ’ t have to worry or be concerned about where you lived or what you could or couldn ’ t buy, or if you could afford the newest gadgets and toys. 
 
 So with a fervor my teachers loved, I completely fell into my studies. I pulled my decent GPA up with the force of a bomb blast, dumping the parties and drinking for classes and studying. On the way, I generally lost all the ‘ friends ’ I had gained who went back to seeing me as a nerd and no fun. Most of them flunked out by the end of the year, and if not then, by the third semester. A couple of lucky ones hung around to the end of the second year but the herd had been greatly thinned by that point. 
 
 Mom kept repeating that little saying for me whenever I ’ d show up, sleep deprived and worrying about my future. Added on that wearing myself out so completely wasn ’ t helping matters. Being the stubborn child I was, I kept surging ahead, finding a few little niches that I could relax into and a few odd acquaintances here and there. I think at the time, I was too worried about falling back into old habits to try and really press for forging a good friendship. 
 
 I still made a few friends that forced their way into my life though. I was really thankful for that when I finally crashed and burned. Mom wasn ’ t there to help either. In fact, that was part of the problem. When I came out of the stupor in the hospital, the room was empty save for the beeping of the heart monitor. When those few friends trailed in to see me, sickly and malnourished, one admonished me for not taking care of myself, another comforted me and a third wondered if my parents had been called. 
 
 That ’ s kind of why I ’ m standing here, holding flowers with a few friends around me for comfort as I confront the sight of a grave I tried to keep away from. I miss her a lot, I guess that lead to me attempting to drown myself in my schoolwork and almost killing myself by doing so. I think she ’ d be happy with the friends I have and be proud that I finally understood what she meant.
