A different kind of happiness.

My phone lights up. A Whatsapp message from a friend: "So, are you invited for that audition?" My heart skips a beat and with trembling fingers I refresh my mailbox, which is just as empty as it was a minute ago. "No news is good news." He sends back. It's back, that excitement I haven't felt in so long. I did well for myself in the past Corona period. It was really tough, but I can't complain. And although Berlin, where I left in March 2020 without knowing whether I would return, sometimes still haunts my mind, I'm really happy. And maybe a little proud of myself. On what I've built. And on how happy it makes me, even though life doesn't look like I imagined it for myself a year and a half ago. I live in a different city, in a different country even, I have a different job, I have different goals, different dreams. A different kind of happiness perhaps, but the happiness is there. I remember the long walks on the beach that my best friend and I regularly took a year and a half ago. When we we're waiting and slowly watched our profession, our passion, our greatest love dying out. "I don't know if this is worth it anymore. Maybe now is the time to throw in the towel and do something else, look for stability." In the long conversations, uncertainty often took over and the plans for another existence were already shelved when he got that one phone call that we both dreamed of for years. When I saw him on stage at his first gala premiere a few weeks ago, while shedding a tear, I could hardly believe that we were really about to give up. Likewise when the email about the second audition come in and the excitement and joy took over for a few seconds. After sitting at home behind a laptop for so long and creating a different life for myself, I had forgotten what this moment felt like. And how addictive it is to feel your heart beating like that. "Yes, I'm invited." I text him back. I can't help the smile on my face. It's stupid that something so small can bring back that old happiness for a while. My new, more stable life is wonderful. I'm doing things I never would have thought of for myself a year and a half ago, but they're amazing. I have sought out a different kind of tension that brings me immense joy. But there is still room for that old happiness. I am now so much more than I imagined a year and a half ago. "That's wonderful, honey." My screen lights up. Yes, it's wonderful, this life.