happy endings

I like them. I know I'm supposed to relish the tortured artist, this world imperfect is kind of vibe, but (right now) I just can't do it.

I want a happy ending.

I've watched a few movies recently that promised to be artistically inspiring. I suppose they were. In fact, I'm positive that for most people they were.

I just wanted my happy ending.

This is the point in the conversation where I usually yell at Lauren for not appreciating a story line or a narrative arc or a performance or. When I tell my students that "I didn't like it" isn't a valid response to a conclusion. You have to speak in paragraphs, people. You have to say why you didn't like it.

There are no happy endings.

Aislin had that written on her wedding cake: "There are no happy endings, because nothing ever ends." Luckily, these movies ended. Unluckily, they didn't end happily. I've taken to watching a TV show with a fairly satisfying contained arc each episode with love and hugs and do-good-ness abounding. Happy.

But artistically unsatisfying.

I know this isn't fair. I don't write happy poems. I don't want to write happy poems. But I also don't believe that my poems are leaving people hanging. Especially when they're expecting a happy ending.

I shouldn't expect a happy ending.

Lower my expectations. That's the answer. Or watch movies where everything ends happily for the good and not happily for the bad.

Who decides good and bad? Or happy and unhappy, for that matter?

Unhappy: killing off the main character for no apparent reason just because the movie is over.

Really unhappy: giving that character an unnecessary head wound.

No head wounds in my poetry. I'm safe for now. And off to finish the night with something trivial. Which isn't happy, but probably also won't end.