Here’s to a happy ending…
My friend tells me that she’ll not have a happy ending. I think about this now as I type.
A happy ending…
What exactly is a happy ending? Is it where the girl gets the boy? Or the girl gets the girl? Or when the sick child lives on despite some strange disease? Or perhaps it’s when an entire planet is saved from those odd little alien beings…
What is a happy ending?
I think it starts with a happy beginning. A life planned, maybe. Mapped out by the alignment of stars.
You are here.
No really. You ARE here.
My friend comes from two people who love each other. They had a few kids. One was a girl.
The girl grew out as she grew up. Didn’t exactly trod the road to normalcy. But it’s ok. She didn’t screw anyone over along the way. She kept the morals close. Kept them sacred.
But it’s the father who has always frowned upon her. It’s the father’s view that she takes internally. Holds close, even. Isn’t it a travesty how we people, we human beings, internalize the frownings of those who claim to love us?
She’s a good girl. A kind girl.
I know this because I know her. I’ve been on her receiving end. A couple decades as witness. And she took my shit upon her like she was doomed to be dealt it. Like the “frowning-on” of her father she always thought she deserved…And thinks it to this day.
But I’m not him. And she is not any image that he conjours up in his mind. She’s substance and fiber. Life and love. Goodness and kindness.
And if there is any ending at all, it’s a happy one. Because she stole the meaningful virtues and dumped the rest. The closed minded bullshit that pervades, she left. Left it all, left it far…
Hear this, Mr. B****. Your kid is ok.
Hear it now, hear it loud. You must hear us shouting.
I know you do, and it’s okay to admit it.
She needs a happy ending, sir.
I will stand firm when I tell her she has one, yet it is you…
…you who seems to hold that damn key…let it go, we can catch.