Seven months ago, I went through a life altering situation. The person I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with moved out. At 42 (and weeks away from being 43-years old), I was alone.
It was rather shocking, though at first, it was liberating. The tension in the household during the preceding few years had been thick. Living alone allowed me to be myself unabashedly.
A month or two after after the break-up, a friend expressed surprise that I could be so positive about life. Tonight, my friend reiterated her disbelief and added that she thought there had to be a darkness looming in the distance (or beyond public view).
I'm an open book, so I told her the truth: I'm wicked lonely but otherwise very happy in my life. Honest.
I don't think she believed me, which made me doubt myself. So I spent the long bike ride home contemplating my happiness.
Here is my rationale for why I'm a happy dude (and you should be too):