It's not that I settle for second best, it's that I compulsively over-analyse, drive people away with my weird unsettling antics and constant sarcasm, and generally hate the world. Until I find someone equally as hateful, but somehow learn to love these quirks and qualms that others seem to hate about me, I doubt my happy ending exists.
It's not either, that I would change myself for this supposed fate. I doubt, very highly in fact, that I would even want this ending if I were approached with it. A happy ending is the American dream, the 2 kids, car and house in the suburbs... isn't it?
My happy ending is not in the least alike that of most. I just want someone, even a friend; a constant companion who appreciates me for who I am and continues to grow with me as I age. I want modest possessions, and nothing more than I need or could consume. I want to live green, as green as possible without being a squatter in the woods. And most of all, I want that romance, that ridiculous romance I read about almost everyday.
Its apparently a lot to ask for: an intellectual equal (not that I'm that conceited about myself), someone who I can have heated (in a non-aggressive manner) arguments with, someone who simply shares my ideals, or at least enough of them not to cause major conflicts..
I'm not a complex person, I'm not the kind of girl who runs around trying to find a guy actively seeking the perfect man, or woman, or friend or animal... Although if the right cat were to fall into my hands I'm sure I'd love it forever.
My love for pets aside, I think that happy endings don't exist simply because of the lofty ideals I seem to hold to them. Happy endings seem to have to include ALL that you ever wish could happen, when simply overcoming adversity and ending up happy would be an ending that could fit that term. Even just being happy, on one's own without any complication could be constituted a "happy" ending, of course.
Maybe I'm too picky? Maybe not. I don't think I have some ridiculous idea of what I want out of my life, and I'm certainly not afraid to look for it, or to know when I've found it. I'll fight for it, tooth and nail; and I know that as 'lofty' as it may seem, all this will happen to me eventually.
Eventually better come, because my negativity and cynicism keep yammering on about how these ideals should be destroyed; love comes in many forms... yada yada yada.
But really? Does it? If I find that Catholic ditzy over-consuming arse-hole, would I even so much as take a second look? I have a predisposed hate for people who waste things, and Catholics (no offense) just seem to hate me for no reason, so I fight that fire with more gas.
So my point, will be proven, eventually.
That happy endings don't exist.
Of course, by being proven right, single and miserable is my fate; so I hope this one time I am wrong. :)
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