Why i am so happy...

I'm feeling really @**#$!! incredible today. Really, really good. Better than i've felt, well, bearing in mind the subjectivity of "happy" memory, in a long, long time. I feel light- alive- free. I noticed the mostly bare trees in the river valley on the ride to school, and it filled me with the same open air exhileration it used to, instead of the more familiar feeling of muffled longing. Here is the kicker- here is how you know you're in an absurdly good mood- i arrive late, for physics( joy!) and pull my homework off the cameron printer, breath deeply, and exclaim" AHH! The smell of fresh printer ink!" The old Jeremy would have immediately asked to be put down for a statement like that. Fresh printer ink? What the hell? It makes no sense. My evening was bookmarked by two of the most emotionally gruelling phone calls of my life, and the rest spent working on Physics problems til 3 Am, (and boy oh boy, do i love physics! I mean, i'm an English student- why, again, am i doing physics at all?) 3 hours later, i awake, wheezing and hacking like a TB victim, and head off to school for lovely, lovely physics. By all rights, i should be walking around with a frown and a messy, black ink scribble hovering over head, breathing fire, staring holes in people, willing somone to look at me wrong so i can evicerate them ( much, actually, as i have been all week...) But no, i'm bouncing on my feet, loving the cold grey fall air, loving the teeming,multicloured masses on campus, loving the @@##$$$%&!! printer ink! Another one of those things you don't notice till its gone- i feel like a huge, murky oppressive cloud has lifed off me, one that had been crowding the edges of my vision, pressing in with a thousand pointy knives, immobilizing me, sucking my energy, blinding me, sucking me down into dry, dead leaves and dark, sludgy mud, weighed down, tied down, trying to drag myself along while sleep, death, rage, and blackness seeped through my skin and began to saturate me, so that i would soon be unable to move, one with the wet, rotting earth.
Definition by absence- i never thought about it while it was there- it only appears in contrast to how i feel now, today, alive, under clear skies, myself, not something else, free, in this moment, alive NOW.
For those who know something of my situation, i'm not trying to identify the "murky cloud" with any particular person, rather, something with me, some consuming, owning passion, some Gollum-like possesiveness and possession, some clench-fisted, fearful greed, that has hung over me for who knows how long, that i appear to be released from. Maybe i let something go- maybe that was the subtle "turning" of last post.

Or, coming closer down to earth, a " that-turned-out-better-than-could-be-expected" resolution of a long torture may have something to do with it. I may be "easy", but I do "hard" very well when pressed to it, far too well, and i didn't want to go there- i was close. One can only turn the cheek so many times before there's no flesh left to hit, only dry, cold, cruel bone. But I don't have to go there. I don't have to hate a friend. We are, neither of us, so far gone as all that.

Maybe that's why this miserable grey day is all sunshine to me. Why i feel, quite suddenly, more like myself than i have in months. I must really be happy, or something.