It's a well known cliche to write about happiness. Our multiple awarenesses of how do we achieve our own little bright spot, and how dynamic we start to feel.
I always loved thinking about stuff. Thinking about feeling happy, thinking about the lining that surrounds the happy feelings. Thinking about thinking.
Sometimes, I even get happier just by resting my thoughts on the fact that I am currently thoughtful. Thinking about thinking.

We were running upwards the hills. I was clearly losing the running competition thing, of course. The countless shades of the grass right below our feet were driving me crazy. Sap green, fern green, phtalo and yellow green. I can't just pass through all the tiny ivory euphorbiaceaes like they were not calling me. And the cliff itself.. it looked like a big lump underneath this vivid-moss-green carpet from a far. Besides, I always loved being left behind while walking. That way I could kinda observe more. Look at things moving. Look at people passing through me, and look at what they would be doing. It's like I am in a separate place, in a separate plane, watching everything roll by right before my eyes. And, of course, it is easier to start thinking when you stop to observe. I always loved thinking about things.
I was feeling this strange-but-at-the-same-time-well-known dynamic. I was multiplied by the tiny bits of peaceful spots around me. Happiness.

You don't know yet, but I was just standing there, watching you race towards the summit. Watching you become more and more out of focus, out of sight, thinking about your silhouette getting closer to where I was supposed to meet you. But I stopped. I did not paralyze, I stopped because I wanted to. I was not catching my breath. I was carefully catching everything that held my eyes so firmly on that one location, and locked it into my mind. I was waiting for everything to take over me. Every thing. From the little white petals swaying progressively as the wind howled in such a powerful and limitless strength, to the way your hair followed the direction of the air, along all the euphorbiaceaes, making me feel shivery on the inside.

It is exactly that dynamic I felt while I was static the whole time.
I was just resting my thoughts on the fact that I was currently thoughtful. It's like I am in a separate place, in a separate plane.
Suddenly, amongst all of the thinking about thinking, there you are, looking at me.
Your big, overjoyed, amber-hazel upbeat eyes, calling me over.
You don't know yet, but there we are:
Dynamically,
static,
Peacefully paralyzed while moving.
Just...
happy.