Bittersweet

I'll be happy if you're happy, whatever your happiness entails, even if that means the end of it all. It's bittersweet. It's being here without being here. It's happiness as a faint, fading memory, you know is there. It's shivering in the cold of the night with the thought of warmness. It's having a spoon and an empty bowl. It's sitting alone on a quiet spring day, remembering memories that never happened.