Happy Endings

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America...land of the free, home of the brave...land of happy endings, and home of the happily ever afters. I may have spent my teens being a tomboy, but as a little girl, I was raised on the stories of Cinderella, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, and Rapunzel.

These fictional but incredible women were always beautiful, impeccably dressed, effortlessly successful, and without a doubt always got their Price Charming at the end. Throw a few vertically challenged men with outrageous personalities, animals that speak like humans, and little people with wings and magic wands...and you have yourself a good story.

Twenty-something years later, I have put my childhood story books away, but I sometimes still wonder if fairy tales are folklore meant for children, or if as an adult you can really have a happily-ever-after ending?

I saw my ex for the first time in almost a month when he stopped by to return my things. He walked in carrying my belongings in a white, trash bag. Four years of constant sleepovers, weekend visits, and casual Sundays sharing our thoughts about politics and prose were being returned in a bag used to dispose of waste. We talked a bit about why we weren't a good fit for one another, and about the love that we still shared. We both knew it was over, but when it was time for him to leave, I had this overwhelming urge to ask him to stay.

He kissed my forehead, kissed me on the lips, and held me while I cried.

How does one say good-bye to an individual that had been a friend (and an enemy), a lover (and a fighter), a confidante (and a pain in the neck), and a fixture in my life for so long?

I couldn't find the strength to physically let him go. I wanted him to hold me forever and promise me that we, us, our love didn't have to end.

I was holding on to him, because physically, emotionally and metaphorically, I just could not let him go...

So, he let me go...and left me standing the doorway of my apartment tears gently falling on a small trash bag containing evidence of our past together.

There wouldn't be a happy ending for our story.

My phone rang...and stopped.

My phone rang again...and stopped again.

My phone rang yet again...and I saw it was a A Long Walk calling...

And though I probably shouldn't have picked up, I didn't want to be alone in that moment.

We chatted about the trivial things like "how was my day," "how was life," "how was the weather," but avoided the obvious question, "why he hadn't called after our first date."

Then, he mentioned he detected a hint of sadness in my voice.

Knowing I wouldn't risk alienating his interest since his interest was nonexistent, I told him about my ex, giving him details about my life with him.

He listened, and offered encouraging words. He was non-judgmental, patient, and sounded sincere when he said if I needed someone to talk to as I healed that he would want to be there. Then, he told me he would  take off his penis, if I needed him too...

...

...

...

...


After a moment of uncomfortable silence, and after taking a few seconds to figure out if that was biologically possible, I simply replied, "Thank You."

He chuckled and said, "do you want to know what that means?"

I didn't.  I mean, I really didn't.

Unfortunately for me, he continued. "By telling you that I would take my penis off," I held my breath, terrified to hear what was next, he continued, "I meant that you could call me and male bash your ex and all the other sorry men that did you wrong and I wouldn't say a word!"

Relief.

Sweet, sweet, sweet relief.

I was glad to know that A Long Walk didn't put his penis in a box every night before he went to sleep. At the same time, I was even more elated that he was willing to try and understand the foreign language that was girl talk.

Though still hurting from my ex's departure, I hung up with a smile on my face.

My second phone call with A Long Walk didn't involve casting him in the role of Prince Charming,  but A Long Walk had inadvertently played an integral part as a very important character, a character that I needed during the difficult process of stepping out of the past and into an uncertain future. This character was: A Potential Friend.

Maybe fairy tales do exist. Maybe this phone call was a Happy Ending in disguise.