“Maybe it’s because they have too many expectations” I interjected.
“Unrealistic ones,” he added. “They think things are supposed to be the way they are in all the movies they see on television,” he said, and I agreed.
That night I dreamt I was sitting in on a writing class.
“What’s your story about?” the instructor asked a student.
“It’s a story about a girl who falls in love with a guy who mistreats her. But I’m having trouble with the ending.”
“Oh, that one’s easy,” the instructor replied. “It’s the story of Beauty and the Beast. But in this one, the beast remains a beast, and the girl has to find a way to accept that.
“What’s your story about?” he asked a woman sitting by a window.
“It’s a story about a woman who falls in love but something happens and she never sees him again.”
“That one’s easy too,” said the instructor. “You’re writing the classic fairytale.”
“I suppose I am,” she muses. “The whole time she knew him she felt like Cinderella at the ball. But when she lost her shoe, no one came after her.”
“That’s so sad,” a student from the back of the class called out.”
“Not sad. Realistic,” said the teacher
“And sometimes,” I said, “it’s not the end that’s worth remembering, but the middle”
And with that, I woke up.
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