Love doesn't just sit there, like a stone; it has to be made, like bread, remade all the time, made new.
The only thing that makes life possible is permanent, intolerable uncertainty; not knowing what comes next.
I certainly wasn't happy. Happiness has to do with reason, and only reason earns it. What I was given was the thing you can't earn, and can't keep, and often don't even recognize at the time; I mean joy.