As children we read fairy stories that give us a very specific idea of what constitutes happily ever after. You overcome your difficulties, find your one true love, who loves you back, you get married and the story ends so they lived happily ever after. As if they never had another problem.
Well I am calling BULLSHIT on the whole thing.
There is no happy ever after. Even if you do find the love of your life, and they happen to actually love you back, it’s not going to be perfect forever more. You will fight, you will argue, you will occasionally hate each other, and chances are one of you will die leaving the other alone. There is no happily every after. Relationships take work.
I want to believe that there’s someone for everyone, that we all get to find that person (or persons) who completes us, who makes us feel we can deal with anything the universe throws at us because we have them standing beside us. Bit I don’t know why I try to believe it so much because nothing in my life has shown me that is what happens. In fact my life has shown me the complete opposite. My parents were soul mates who found each other when they were both in the mid-thirties, my mum was divorced and my dad had never been married. They managed to find each other against all odds, and they loved each other very much but they didn’t get their happy ever after. They got twelve years and then he got to watch her die slowly from cancer, and he had to raise their daughter by himself.
Even if they hadn’t had me I think my dad would have said he would rather have had those twelve years with her, and lost her than to have never known her. But no matter how great those twelve years were, they weren’t a happy ever after.
I’ve not dated loads of guys but I’ve noticed something about my dating history. I seem to find two types of guys. There are the ones who are great fun but it’s just about sex, and even if you get on it’s not really a recipe for happy ever after. Then there are the other guys, the ones I think are actually good guys, they’re nice, and funny, and smart, and lovely, and I could totally fall for them. Then they turn out to not at all be what they said they were, you know the ones, after a few months they accidentally say we went to xx last week and you look confused as you ask them “who’s we?” And they casually explain they have a wife/girlfriend/etc.
By now you’d think I’d have developed some sort of radar that picks up on the bullshit but I don’t seem to have managed it. Even if I do start thinking a guy might be stringing me along, or feeding me a line it is completely over-ridden by the hopeful part of me, the part who wants to believe that not only do nice guys exist but that there is someone out there who could love me as much as I could love them. I really want to believe but I think it is all just bullshit. Nice guys who want relationships just don’t exist, or if they do they don’t have any interest in me, other than for sex, sexy messaging, etc.
So I’ve decided I am calling BULLSHIT on the happily ever after. And I’ll take the happy right now……..where I can get it.