Rough Drafts

A Series of Pieces Written in The Wild

Jacquline Munguía

#10

A list of what happiness feels like:

• The sun hugging my shoulders and leaving a kiss print
• A Qwixx game with friends, dropping dice and talking in our own shorthand
• When I think I’m feeling neutral and realize I’m actually really content
• Soda bubbles
• The sunsets I catch and the comets I don’t miss
• Wish time. Counting every 11:11 and fallen eyelash
• Pen to paper
• The scent of petrichor rising after a monsoon and knowing that anyone who knows what I’m talking about will inevitably follow up with, “I wish I could bottle it up”
• Soft fur baby cuddles
• Slow blinks
• Tearing your worldly belongings apart, parting with the things that are ready to be elsewhere while reconnecting with the things that are most loved
• Memories of times I never thought I’d get through in one piece
• Figuring out the puzzle of piecing and rebuilding myself again
• A perfectly timed, “Ew, David!”
• Elusiveness of happiness and the reminder that everything is temporary
• Picking strawberries with my grandmother while the scent of chlorine from the pool filled my little nostrils
• The crackle and pop of a campfire
• The scent of pine and ocean. A combo I’d only gotten a whiff of in Vancouver, BC
• The rush of an idea taking form
• A little baby chuckling to themselves
• Chocolate
• And coffee
• A big hug from someone I haven’t seen in a long time. But only if that person doesn’t suck. Standards, people.
• Window seats and comfy chairs
• Casper mattress toppers that feel like clouds if clouds had even the tiniest bit of heft to them.