Bliss

Misery is not all that exists
I’ve seen lives beginning (not necessarily as a newborn), witnessed newfound love formed. Events are celebrated, connections are made, excitement fills up rooms.
I rejoice when they do, brightening even (and especially) from the little things. The loving touch, the intense gaze, the small victories they make within themselves.
I know all their favorite midnight snacks, the memory they rely on to make them smile. I see them cry tears of joy because their favorite fictional characters are in love, I hear their loud voices when sleep is the last thing on their minds.