"When you stand under shower and the ice cold water suddenly hits you, you get startled. Even though it's hot outside and you've come walking miles and are sweating, you still desperately try to fix the shower to lukewarm or even hot.
But after sometime, your body gets used to the feeling of the cold on its skin. After some days, you forget that warm water is too supposed to come out of the shower head. And then you start ignoring it to the point that the cold water doesn't affect you anymore.
One day out of nowhere when warm water hits you under that shower, you get shocked. You're now used to the icy cold water startling you. So then you wonder if something is wrong with the tap or the shower or the water pipe or the water tank itself . Even though the warmth of the water feels calm, you still expect cold water to soon fall on you. But it doesn't. I'd like to believe that it doesn't.
The same thing happens with me but in terms of pain and happiness. Here, sadness or pain or grief or hurt, is the 'cold' water and happiness is the 'warm' one. No matter how hard I try to accept the warm water, there's always a small inkling telling me that soon the ice cold water will fall down from that shower piercing my skin.
You're getting the point right?" She looks at him expectantly and continues as if almost knowing what he was about to say,
" Now don't tell me things like "But this happiness and sadness are the parts that make up life. They're both parts of the same coin, that life becomes meaningless without these moments." See, if I'm not able to fully accept the fact that I'm happy, without any fear of the pain or hurt that is sure to follow, how am I going to handle that pain? How am I going to fully prepare myself for the sad part if I'm not able to enjoy the happy part?" Her eyes glistened in the moonlight creeping through the window cracks. It looked like she needed to be hugged that night, for a little longer than usual. -Shrabada