She laughed. 'It won't last. Nothing lasts. But I'm happy now.''Happy,' I muttered, trying to pin the word down. But it is one of those words, like Love, that I have never quite understood. Most people who deal in words don't have much faith in them and I am no exception--especially the big ones like Happy and Love and Honest and Strong. They are too elusive and far too relative when you compare them to sharp, mean little words like Punk and Cheap and Phony. I feel at home with these, because they're scrawny and easy to pin, but the big ones are tough and it takes either a priest or a fool to use them with any confidence.
The narrator reflects on a conversation with a woman who acknowledges the transient nature of happiness. While she expresses her current joy, he struggles to grasp the concept of happiness itself, likening it to the complexity of love—both are challenging to define and understand. This highlights a deeper existential contemplation around the fleeting nature of emotions.
He contrasts these significant words like "happy" and "love" with more straightforward ones like "punk"...
