This is one of those perfect stories. The ones with happy endings. This one here. I say it is one of them like there exist many stories that end well. But this one does. Believe me, it does. How it gets to the end doesn’t matter. The trials and tribulations don’t matter. As far as at the end, I am happy and everything around me is happy and everyone with me is happy. And this goal that I have aimed for, that has motivated me for so long is now mine to cherish. So this end is happy and this story is perfect.
This story is perfect because it is filled with all those things that I like so much. Money, luxury, food, women (and men depending on how I am feeling) success (by any measure in which it is quantified). And this story is perfect because my sacrifices have led to pay off and now I wake up every morning thinking of how I am the thing I want and the person I am.
The only time this story isn’t perfect is when something unwanted — reminds me of how the middle was. How lovers were lost for whatever reason. Because I lacked love
or time
or sense
or all these things.
Something unwanted reminds me of friendships ended because I made decisions for my own best interest. And sometimes I remember the things that I had no hand in determining whether I lost them or not, like compassion and care and love and that other thing.
But this is where we are, the ending part, that is happy, and this story feels very perfect to me. Doesn’t it seem the same to you?
