Happy Ending
Such irony. Such satire. I’ve always wondered, how can something that ends still be called happy? Doesn’t the very word end carry a weight of loss, of fading away, of something slipping beyond reach? How can an ending be anything but bittersweet?
It’s not like watching a tsunami swallow the world while you sit in your room, smiling, letting the water take you away without panic. No, let’s not go that far. Take something as simple as an ice cream cone. The last bite, the chocolate-filled tip of a Cornetto, is the best part, the moment of pure joy. But even that moment, the one everyone looks forward to, ends. The taste lingers for a while, sweet and familiar, and then…it fades. Just like everything else.
Isn’t that what life is too? A series of moments that bring happiness, only to pass? We meet people, we laugh, we love, and somewhere deep down, we know, it won’t last forever. Yet we still let ourselves enjoy it. And when it ends, we’re left with memories, a faint aftertaste of joy, until something new begins.
And sometimes, an ending itself is the happiness. Breaking free from something that held us down, finally letting go of what hurt, perhaps that’s its own kind of happy ending.
Maybe that’s why this piece doesn’t have the perfect conclusion either. Some things aren’t meant to be wrapped up neatly. Some things just are....
" Breaking free from something that held us down, finally letting go of what hurt" but what if u have nothing to cause u pain>? what if that nothing IS causing me pain?
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