True happiness

Life, real life, passes me by as I try to grapple with my lonesome existence. I dream about my son and having him around me while I work at my desk, dragging myself through one Japanese text after another. If I close my eyes, I see him tottering into the room; as I have yet to see him walk, I have to imagine the whole thing. He hesitates for a moment at the door, knowing that he's breaching the sacred rule set out for him by his mother (Do not disturb your father, he's working!), but he also knows that I will be happy to see him. I imagine looking up for a second to see him peeping at me from the distance and smiling when our eyes meet. I leave everything that I'm doing, stand up and start playing with him, surrendering to his every whim and wish, now carrying him on my back as his horse, now playing with his cars. And feeling, in between the shifts at the desk, that that is what you call true happiness, and looking forward to it once again.