“There's no such thing as happy endings” This is so true. There really are no happy endings. No one’s story ends where the author ends it. The story goes on, it continues. Snow White gets pregnant has a kid who is fairer than her. Cinderella and Prince Charming get over their “honeymoon stage” and they have to live with each other for the rest of their lives. Nobody knows the whole story, no one can truly say there ever is a “happily ever after” It is something that we have made-up to give us hope. But how can hope be found in something so false? In something so untrue. If there aren’t happy endings, if the story continues on after “Happily Ever After” what happens then? Do we just ignore it, and go on or do we try to be happy, as happy as we can be, knowing that eventually happiness ends. Or is that what “Happy Endings” truly means, it means that happiness does have an end, but if it has an end does that not also mean that is has a beginning? And if something has an end and a beginning, does that not mean that it could begin again, anew, refreshed?
I was once a little girl, a little girl who believed that happy endings were possible. That magic was real, that the beast could turn back into a man simply through the power of love. That the last rose petal falling wouldn’t matter, that Belle could still save him. I know now that that isn’t true. That love does not conquer all, but in fact is usually the root of all pain. That love cannot save someone, that magic like that of Beauty and the Beast does not exist in the real world. But then again, maybe it could, maybe there still is some of that little girl hoping beyond all hope left inside of me.