A Modern Fairytale

So Once Upon a Time there was a girl.

She was not the wisest person in the world, nor the smartest. She was not the quickest learner, best performer or trendiest dresser.

She was not the most honest, most loyal or even most likeable. She was not the prettiest, most sociable.

She was not many things and often, sometimes at the oddest, most illogical or incomprehensible times, this fact would occur to her and negate the happiness she might otherwise have been feeling. If she could not be the best then could she not strive to be better? This she did, but it never seemed enough. Though it occurred to her, being the thoughtful type, many a time that we live in a society that holds dear false ideals and very rarely recognises the immense or otherwise achievements we do attain, she could never quite remember to remember this when the inadequacies of her remarkable life were once again making her feel like the biggest fake that ever existed. She was remarkable you see, but she was also pretty average; whether this actually means that we are all remarkable or that the definition of remarkable has somehow lost its intended meaning I’m not so sure, it’s beside the point so stop side-tracking. She was as near remarkable as any of the people she admired and, yes she was only human, envied, but no-one is remarkable all the time or to everyone.

She’d do well to remember that, we all would, but of course she couldn’t, and we don’t.

She had many achievements to make her family proud; some big, some small, some known, some not. She messed up about a million times more. Should I be subtracting one from the other here? If I gave exact figures would that help decide whether she was truly remarkable as I claim or just another fuck-up? She does that every day, without really realising, probably it’s not even a decision we need to make.

Tomorrow will most likely be the same, and the day afterwards, maybe the day after that something will happen to make her realise how great her life is, maybe it will last a few days before reality hits home again. Hopefully a few hours at least. ‘Reality’, now there’s a word I truly believe has lost its intended meaning.

She still lives, as Happily Ever After as she can and that I suppose is the traditional end to this story. People would tell me that this is no story, it has no point, how could it be? I would tell them- they just found the point.

I think we'd all live a little more Happily Ever After if sometime we learnt to remember that.