Happily Ever After
Sometimes it’s hard for me to sleep because I feel so lonely. Sometimes I have to find something to occupy my mind because if I don’t, I’ll think about everything and all I’ll want to do is cry. Sometimes I feel like talking to someone, anyone, just to feel like I’m not the only person around, like the world isn’t just a big empty space with me standing there alone. Then other times it isn’t like that. Other times I’m made claustrophobic by my life and just want to leave and find an unoccupied beach somewhere. Other times I feel like it’s better to be alone.
The thing about movies is that you never see what comes next. A man kisses the woman and the end credits come up. But you don’t see what comes after that kiss. Maybe their teeth clash and they don’t talk to each other for the next year out of pure embarrassment. Maybe they have sex and then he doesn’t call her again. Maybe they have a very fulfilling, meaningful relationship for a year or so then get bored of each other and break up. With lives it’s different. You can’t know when you’ve reached the happily-ever-after point. Does it even exist?
A few days ago I would have sworn that I’d reached that point. Not forever, but for just now. Something to make me happy for the next few months at least, something to make me human. Something to make me sleep easier at nights because the aching lonliness wouldn’t be there anymore. Someone to keep me company on that beach, but not bother me if I needed to walk a little way down it alone. And I knew that there would never be one point in my life that I could label “Happily ever after” but maybe there will be a few and I can say that if nothing else, it was a good time.
But I’ve changed my mind. It doesn’t exist. It’s good and I’m happy enough. I don’t need someone on that beach with me, I never have and never will. The one thing about me is that I am, intrinsically, independent. That doesn’t mean that I’m stubborn or that I have to have my own way. It doesn’t mean that when I was a baby I had to use the fork myself- I wouldn’t let my parents even though I couldn’t lift it properly. It means that I’m just more comfortable on my own, independent of other people. I’m not happier on my own, believe me, it’s just the default my life falls into. Some rely on their partners, even in a relationship I will rely on myself first.
Happily ever after is as mythical and false as the fairytales from which it originated. It isn’t a state you can aspire to, and if you think that you’ve reached it then you’ll soon come to realise it was fake. But even though I’ve not reached happily ever after, I have reached happy. It’s come as a shock after the last few months. All I wanted to do was party, pull, and forget everyone’s names the next day. And, but for one person, it would have all worked out fine for me. I’d probably be as man-hating as my two best mates, but I’d be relaxed and feeling pretty good regardless. It didn’t work out.
Happily ever after doesn’t exist. But I’ll take happy without the ever after. Life couldn’t just be filled with happiness, it would get boring. For now I’m just happy to spend a few weeks without the lonliness.
The thing about movies is that you never see what comes next. A man kisses the woman and the end credits come up. But you don’t see what comes after that kiss. Maybe their teeth clash and they don’t talk to each other for the next year out of pure embarrassment. Maybe they have sex and then he doesn’t call her again. Maybe they have a very fulfilling, meaningful relationship for a year or so then get bored of each other and break up. With lives it’s different. You can’t know when you’ve reached the happily-ever-after point. Does it even exist?
A few days ago I would have sworn that I’d reached that point. Not forever, but for just now. Something to make me happy for the next few months at least, something to make me human. Something to make me sleep easier at nights because the aching lonliness wouldn’t be there anymore. Someone to keep me company on that beach, but not bother me if I needed to walk a little way down it alone. And I knew that there would never be one point in my life that I could label “Happily ever after” but maybe there will be a few and I can say that if nothing else, it was a good time.
But I’ve changed my mind. It doesn’t exist. It’s good and I’m happy enough. I don’t need someone on that beach with me, I never have and never will. The one thing about me is that I am, intrinsically, independent. That doesn’t mean that I’m stubborn or that I have to have my own way. It doesn’t mean that when I was a baby I had to use the fork myself- I wouldn’t let my parents even though I couldn’t lift it properly. It means that I’m just more comfortable on my own, independent of other people. I’m not happier on my own, believe me, it’s just the default my life falls into. Some rely on their partners, even in a relationship I will rely on myself first.
Happily ever after is as mythical and false as the fairytales from which it originated. It isn’t a state you can aspire to, and if you think that you’ve reached it then you’ll soon come to realise it was fake. But even though I’ve not reached happily ever after, I have reached happy. It’s come as a shock after the last few months. All I wanted to do was party, pull, and forget everyone’s names the next day. And, but for one person, it would have all worked out fine for me. I’d probably be as man-hating as my two best mates, but I’d be relaxed and feeling pretty good regardless. It didn’t work out.
Happily ever after doesn’t exist. But I’ll take happy without the ever after. Life couldn’t just be filled with happiness, it would get boring. For now I’m just happy to spend a few weeks without the lonliness.
Labels: A field of poppies
