Happiness is when you are sitted on a table with your close friends, by the veranda in a restaurant overlooking the sea.
The sun is setting, staining the bright blue sky with streaks of yellow, orange and purple. There is a faint breeze, and the sun shines onto you and your friends and the table. The setting sun glares at your eyes, making it hard to see the fine details, because everything you see is washed with a golden hue, including your friends.
Tapas dishes lay on the table, emptied by you and your friends. Your fingers laced around the neck of a glass, half-filled with refreshing sangria. Half of it has already travelled from your digestive systems to your head, making you light-headed and giddy. It makes you look at your friends differently, it makes you marvel at the glorious sunset, it makes you laugh at everything and anything, because you understood that this is a precious moment. It makes you appreciate the fact that you are there, now, with your close friends, and it makes your heart filled with so much love and happiness that you just don’t want the moment to come to an end.
Because you know, deep down, that this moment may not happen again, at least not when everything seems so perfect.
Perfect. That’s the word. The right word that could accurately describe that moment.