The Pursuit of Happyness...by Naz

Sometimes I don't pay enough attention to the things that matter. I've been told that I spend too much time online, playing games, reading or watching soccer. That I can be dull on the phone and a little forgetful, at best. About how sometimes it seems I don't put in enough effort, that I've taken things for granted.

I look above me now, there's a picture of a happy couple. The guy looks a little out of place, seated beside this great-looking girl. The picture's mounted on a large card, done up with glitter and a (now-faded) rose. Also attached is a Valentine's Day message penned by the girl in question, ripe with typos scrawled in her strange cursive hand.

Behind me is a charcoal drawing on some sort of wax paper. It sits in a frame, and beside it is another pink frame, yes pink. Both hold pictures of the same couple. Oh, there are differences. Some drastic, others more subtle. Longer or more spiky hair. A trace of a beard, glasses. But they all show the same couple.

In my palm a small silver ring lies. It's little more than a twisted piece of metal really. On the inside are a few letters. One can still discern that they spell out the names of the couple in the photographs and drawing encircling it. Makes me remember the time I lost another similar ring, due to the stupidity of youth (which I still have... the stupidity, not the latter, it seems.). How I scoured through a grassy field for hours, looking for a shiny metal ring. Like the one on my finger now.

But all that is here, and more. Cards in a box. A cute glass thingamajig that I haven't found a practical use for. A mug. Shirts and shoes. A Nike bag and my worn our bermudas. Makes me wonder, makes me remember.

And then I look at everything again and I smile.

Most people ask me "Whoa, Naz. Six years! When are you marrying that girl?" Some aren't as optimistic about long-term relationships and ask "Don't you get bored?" Others have questioned certain instances or occurences; pointed out how a square plug can never fit into a round hole. Still, I take it all in my stride. Let the questions flow, let the comments come.

I said before that I wanted to marry her. And most of my good friend know that too. Sometimes I get frustrated with her. Every couple has their squabbles, I guess. And, before she points out shrilly, I have my own fair share of shortcomings. Some of which I already mentioned, others might be more or less obvious to the ones around me.

But despite all that, she's the one who came and sat by me as I lay in my hospital bed, feeling like Lakisha fell on me. She's the one who walked by my side and held my hand after my wisdom teeth got taken out and I looked like I had a banana in my mouth. She was the one who help me try to convince my runaway Zig to come home. She's the one who went to all those lengths to concoct and create things that deserve a special mention on Art Attack year in and year out.

I guess I don't take the time to tell her all these things sometimes. Most times. Maybe this will make up for it.

I'm happy with the girl I have, and can't imagine anyone else in her place.

All I got her was a talking bear.