Writing from the other side, I can say that I was never really happy. I just pretended to be happy to be left alone. Nobody worries about you when there is a Cheshire cat grin slapped on that otherwise sullen kisser. A smile like that means everything besides it can be forgotten. Why couldn't I own a real smile? How did I let myself just flicker out and die in this manner? I had nothing to show for myself, after twenty years of people loving me and nurturing me, of giving me everything I wanted. I hate myself for the ease of my life. I hate myself for everything. I hate myself with all I have.