You said I had to fix the problems in my life before I could be happy. You said that you didn’t think anyone, including yourself, was really happy.
I felt red hot indignity prickle up my spine, retorting against your words. But you were right. When I began to fix the problems in my life, moving to a new land, starting a new job, and becoming the person I always wanted to be, I started to feel content and without regret. I remembered your words and started to love that you had a simple wisdom underneath your facade.
I really hate that I love that you were right.