CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: Happiness

I walked up to House's door, clad in a handsome dark blue blazer which the lady in the store said brought out my eyes. I had trimmed my long waves of blond and even joined a gym. I was determined to look my best that Tuesday, for it was the Tuesday when I left my fear behind.
I had been thinking a lot about my last encounter with the woman of my dreams. How I hated myself afterwards for being such a coward. 'Well, no more!' I thought the next day. 'No more fear, no more pain.' It was sort of a promise I made to myself, a goal that my heart was set on reaching. Fear had held me back my whole life, but I wasn't about to let it win this race. And there certainly was a race. My heart was sprinting at 60 miles per hour.

After long introspection, which I knew could be either very dangerous or enlightening, I had a revelation. There was no reason why I shouldn't have been happy. I was wealthy, handsome, intelligent…I had a life that others would kill or die for.

And yet, here I was, miserable as always, cowardly as always, and I realized that all that pain was self-inflicted. Not in the way House likes to accuse me of, but still. I was in control of my happiness.

If I wanted to be joyful, I could. If I wanted to be fearless, I could. I was in control. I had never felt like that before. I had always felt like someone else was responsible for my happiness. First my parents, then my friends, then my job, then Alison…all of which failed to bring me the bliss I had so long sought after.

Why hadn't I realized it sooner? It could've saved me a lot of pain if I just saw that I was my own responsibility. Others can contribute to your happiness, but they can't MAKE you happy. Only you can do that for yourself.

Well, at least I realized it then, while there was still time to set things right in my life. I knew that all my problems couldn't be solved with this revelation, and that it would take time to fully get over my long-winded depression, but I had hope. I had hope like I never had before, and that feeling was like the sweetest bar of creamy milk chocolate. I savored every moment and kept craving more.

As I approached House's door, I had a rare smile on my face. I was going to ask Trinity out to dinner. I was nervous, of course, but not afraid. I was more excited than anything. I was confident she'd accept the invitation and who knows what the evening could bring?

I had a good feeling about that girl, a really good feeling. Not like I had with Alison. When I met Alison, I thought, 'Now there is a beautiful, smart young woman. There is a beautiful, smart young woman who is head over heels in love with our 40-something-year-old acrimonious, crippled boss.'

I couldn't figure it out. As much as I admired and genuinely liked House, I felt jealous over Alison's bewildering affections for him. Now looking back on our romance, I think it was all based on jealousy. I was never really in love with Alison. I just couldn't accept when that a girl wanted an atrabilious misanthrope over me. When I finally got her, it was a huge victory, but an even huger mistake.

But with Trinity it was different. I could feel it. When I first met her, I could literally feel the light within her, the perpetual warmth. There were no bad feelings, only good. She made me feel safe and loved, although I knew there was no way she could love someone she just met. Still, the emotion was new and one that I knew I wanted to feel again.

And I was ready to. I knocked on the door, prepared to at once see Trinity's beautiful, glowing face. Instead, I was greeted by the glowering one of House.

"H-house?" I stammered.

House replied, "Big surprise! Break out the piñata and chocolate ice cream cake! You did bring chocolate ice cream cake, didn't you?"

I shook my head in confusion. "Where's Trinity?"

"She moved to Italy for business," House answered casually. "Come in, we have lots of intellectual discussions awaiting us."
"What!" I shouted. "Sh-she m-moved to Italy?"

"Y-y-y-yes," House quipped back mockingly.

"For business? What kind of business?"

House responded, "The kind where people make money for doing stuff. I know, it's rare, but it does exist."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "She got another job? Doing what?"

"Stuff."
"Stop it, House! I'm serious! Answer me," I replied almost furiously.

House was taken aback, and he quietly answered, "She's an artist. Whenever she had free time here, she'd paint. It was her real passion. This job was just to make a little money so she could go to Italy. And I knew that. That's exactly why I hired her. I knew I didn't have long, and besides…her art often brought a little vibrancy that would be otherwise lacking from this house."

I nodded solemnly. "So, she won't be coming back?" I felt like a little boy who just found out that Santa Claus wasn't real.

"Maybe your baby-blues will send her flying back across the country," House said, then realizing my deep sorrow, added with a tone of indisputable sympathy, "but I highly doubt it, Chase."

My happiness depleted just as quickly and dramatically as it came. I kept trying to tell myself that I was in control of my own happiness, but the words just didn't seem as convincing as they once did.