After Happily Ever0

by Jules Bleach

So what happens after the happily ever after? Or more specifically the moment it begins. Most stories are based on two things, Girls and Conflict. I have this theory that every song ever written, every picture ever taken, every film ever filmed, every artwork ever drawn, or painted was in a small sense done to impress a girl, boy or partner/ lover. Now don’t get me wrong, I also believe the possibility that most creation is done out of Pure Inspiration and for the pride of one’s self and abilities. But I’m just saying, it’s a noticeable aspect that must be considered, Dali’ had Gala, etc.

The most popular conflict in media, apart, of course, from the battle of Good V Evil, seems to be Boy wants Girl, and therein lies the rich, dramatic, melancholic well of emotions that have been used for centuries and are still my favourite type of stories. Usually the one where the Boy either doesn’t end up with the Girl, or at least goes through some monumental epic struggle/adventure to get the girl, like Scott Pilgrim! I often find the most touching part I can relate to more though is the Struggle.
It even came to a point with my best friend Tracey where she proffered to, rather than take up the opportunity to go out with her partner, stay at home and miss him instead, because in a sense it felt more real.

Have we transitioned from relating more to Heartache than to the surrealistic fulfilment of Love? Of course this ties in to the whole wanting what we can’t have, and once we have it , we don’t want it any more kind of thing. Like me in the 5th grade & my obsession with Byron H’s imported Robotech 6ft action figure, a shiny off limits torture, that drove me mad with desire to see it in his shiny hands, but there was something…dulling & disgusting even, in the way he just one day openly offered it to me, it was overwhelming, and it that instant lost its appeal.

I went through this Obsessive Compulsive type period of being, to paraphrase Brett Easton Ellis, an Emotional Vampire, I would have phases of getting interested in a thing such as a book series, or tv series, or period in time, and just overwhelm myself, drown myself gluttonously in everything it had to offer. Too Much Too Soon. Too Much Of A Good Thing etc.

[Nemesis in Dazzle]

I would devour every little trivial bit of information related to it, enjoy it, consume it, drain it, get bored when there was nothing left and move on, like some kind of virus. This counted for people too. I even got to the pretentious stage of I don’t like you because I can understand you. In other words, if the mystery was gone and I didn’t enjoy their pure core values, I would discard them.

Ok, I’ll say it. I was an Asshole.

But I digress, Where as I would probably never watch an hours worth of just pure uninterrupted eye contact between two characters I know nothing about and therefore cannot be compelled to care for them, the girl, I’ve just met (& now officially dating BTW, thank you, thank you), it’s….different with her. I’m enjoying both the definitions of the construct of the unravelling mystery, but also grateful and appreciative for the individual stand alone moments and items I’m discovering about her. She’s like a really good episode of LOST.

It is nice to finally have that pure bliss, simplicity and joy in my life once more, even though it may be sickening for others to witness. She’s scratched an itch I didn’t even know I had.

So whilst I’ll always be compelled to drama, these days, after having my fill, I can just close the book, or press pause, get up and go enjoy a simple happy real life, as boring as that may be to others, to me it’s the greatest movie ever made