Happy Ending

She started, momentarily disrupting her state of reverie.

She wondered what caused her to react so.

Then she heard a laugh,  coming clearly amid amid the rustling leaves,

The bubbling brook by which she had been sitting.

It brought back a fresh wave of memories.

A time when she had once been the origin and reason of such a sound.

The gay, unabandoned sound of joy.

No reins holding it back.

For a moment time stood still.

She was taken back to the last time she had laughed; had been so happy.

It came in flashes, his face, her face, smiling and surrounded by smiles.

That feeling that being this happy was impossible, feeling this complete.

Like it was a passing phase, and the end nearer than she thought.

Then came another series of flashes, this time not so happy.

The screams, the fights, the hurt, the anguish felt.

The sleepless nights, and the mornings after.

The fitful, passionate good days, always wishing they would last a little while longer.

And lamenting when they ended abruptly.

A word said, a comment passed.

His angry look, the flutter of her heavy heart.

The wish to take them back, but it was too late.

The flash of red, and then the flash of lights and the sound of sirens.

Then the news; the feeling of loss.

Not regret, just loss.

No sorrow either, just loss.

Her heart like an abyss, there were no more tears left to cry.

Indeed, those fitful bursts of happiness were so long ago, she almost wished she could turn back time.

Almost.

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4 responses to “Happy Ending

  1. This is the kind of entry that almost tempts the question that I myself love and hate the most when it is posed of me. The question of “why”? Or perhaps more aptly, what inspired it…

    How is it real? Because it always is – in some way… to some extent. For some reason. However remote and impersonal.

    Words are never just words. Expect when they are. *smiles quietly*

  2. Why? Because bipolar disorders, alcoholism, drug abuse and all those other disorders and illnesses are way more common than we think. It’s not in any way real to me or pertaining to my life. It was inspired by a book I read. That’s as connected to me as it could get!

    Words carry the world in them, how we perceive the words varies 😀

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