The thought of having our very own happiness depend on one person scares me. The moment I fell in love, I felt my hands placing my happiness inside a brittle translucent jar, of which I unconsciously laid upon another’s hand. I shudder every time I think of the infinite possibilities of how and when he is going to drop it. Tell me, if the person we love decides to walk away, will our happiness be dragged along with them? Will our happiness stay? Will it withdraw from the original hands that steadied its joy and prefer the one who took it? Will our hands no longer handle brittle translucent jars or will our hands provide new ones? Answer me, when the time comes that we find ourselves lonely in constant subfuscous moments — what would we really miss; our fictitious and romanticized happiness or the person whom we have allowed to be…