I was perfectly occupied with my world. Convincing myself that I am a contented widow living my life with all the treasures of the world at my hands reach.
Adoring my husband everyday, claiming that he never really left. He is still the one providing for me. Gave me all that he can offer assuming he is still alive. And I will always be eternally grateful for that.
And love. His love, like the air I breath – it was always there. Comforting me every time I feel sad or unsure or about to lose faith. He is my equalizer.
But life, really is not my best friend. A mysterious foe. The moment I say contentment, it gives me something to think about. The moment I say balance, it shakes me.
Now I have to decide if I am really happy or just plainly contented with life.