Selfish Appetite [5 Seconds of Summer]

[7]

"Show me a sane man, and I will cure him for you."

- - 

Sloan

There are four major theories of happiness.

During my second year at university, a professor introduced them—what they were in relation to, I can't remember.

The lecture was on types of disorders, but I can't recall the context in which we ended up talking about happiness.

I just remember that he was always going off on tangents, things that didn't necessarily have anything to do with the syllabus.

He wanted us to keep a "bigger picture" in mind, not just focus on the material mandated by the dean. His lectures were never just about one thing.

One theory that stuck with me is the Expectations Theory of Happiness. It's an analogy: long-term happiness depends on the gap between our expectations and the reality we face.

If the gap is wide, you're unhappy. If the gap is small, or nonexistent, you're happy.

For example, it's your birthday, and you expect your parents to get you that toy you've been raving about. They do, and you're happy—based on the Expectations Theory.

But if you expect a mansion and a Porsche, you're unhappy.

Solving this problem isn't exactly simple.

People aren't big on lowering their expectations. Sure, some keep them low to avoid disappointment, but there's always that small, almost invisible light of hope. Even if they deny it's still there.

That's what expectations give us: hope. They give us a reason to get out of bed in the morning. We expect better things because "how long can this shit last?" We need more.

Sometimes we deserve more, too.

I expected more from Ian.

I'm ashamed to admit it, but I did.

I wanted more for our relationship. During the final months, I was in denial. I didn't want to accept that this was it, that I was about to say goodbye to years of my life. I didn't want to label those years as wasted, as gone.

I don't think I cared about myself anymore. I just needed to hold on to him, even though my life with him was hell.

I guess I was delusional enough to expect him to have a change of heart, to start treating me like a human being. I expected him to want to save us. But now, I'm glad he didn't—because I would've let him pull me back in.

I would've stayed out of habit and fear.

Stockholm Syndrome, maybe. He had managed to make every aspect of my life revolve around him, leaving me trapped, unable to escape.

But that's in the past. I shouldn't dwell on it. I managed to break free from that cycle. And dwelling on it now only hinders my healing process.

I need to focus on the present—and the future.

I should also focus on what Calum's saying right now, because I've zoned out of the happiness conversation for the last few minutes, and Ally's looking at me, amused.

Calum notices and scoffs playfully.

Luke chuckles to himself, stirring the ice cubes in his unfinished drink.

"You have to admit he has a point, Bennett." Luke challenges, pointing at Calum.

I don't know when and why he decided on addressing me by my last name, but I'd be lying if I said my stomach didn't do a little twist every time he did it.