Maybe happy endings do not exist.

Perhaps they are nothing more than bedtime stories,
fairytale notions,
and dreams that can never quite be,
told to children to help them sleep,
as a momentary reprieve
from their nightmares or reality.

Hoping for a happy ending is like hoping
you’ll win the lottery jackpot,
despite more odds being against you than in your favour,
a roll of the dice,
the luck of the draw,
a game of chance
on which you stake your bet.

Perhaps there is no such thing as “happy ever after.”
Maybe there is only “happy”
and “ever after,”
two rooms,
adjacent and connected
but impossible
to reside in
at the same time.

Perhaps a happy ending,
is making peace with the fact
that not all endings are happy, ever after,
riding off into the sunset
and maybe
happy for now
is the best that you get.