500 Words Plus A Sentence, And One More After That

No self-imposed word count this week kids, as the conversation required much more breathing space than that.

Here is week # 8’s submission for Master Class 2013, who’s twist involved two prompts* being used, one at the start, and the other at the end.

As always, I hope you enjoy.

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The past cannot be cured.

“That’s how you always lived dad, but that was on you, not me. And definitely not him.”

“I’m only saying, some day he’ll look back on the days of tramping around the house in your wife’s high heels, pretending to be a drag queen, and he’ll be mortified. He’s my grandson – I don’t want him to live in shame.”

“Now why would he feel like that dad? Again, please don’t attribute ‘your thing’ onto his life. You were the one who could never let go of your past, never feel good about who you were naturally. He’s a totally different being, a being of Light versus darkness. You and I, we’re the opposite of him. And dad, our family has had more than its fair share of our ilk, don’t you agree? Let’s give his approach a try for a spell, shall we?”

“You’re not listening to me. And you’re once again trying to fill the conversation with a whole bunch of flouncey words that don’t really mean anything.”

“Slew, dad.”

“What?”

“Slew. I would have chosen ‘slew’ over ‘whole bunch,’ dad.”

“Whatever, smartass. Listen, it’s a sin, OK?”

“No dad, it’s not OK. You see, I don’t recall anywhere in the Bible where Jesus busted on any of that. He DID, however, tell people not to judge others. He also told us to love each other, and He told us to live by His example, not Rome’s. No dad, there are all sorts of sins in this world, but my son’s orientation isn’t one of them, and it upsets me that you would feel that way.”

“But do you think I would actually feel that way? I mean, if I were alive to be there? If you recall, I was the one who bought him the Baby Doll he wanted. Do you think I would now choose my ideology over his? Would I choose myself over him?”

“I don’t know dad. I would hope not. I would hope that – like so many other times in your life – you would eventually change your mind for the love of your family, begrudgingly at first, and then in full-out abandon, to the point of being a public embarrassment. You know, like you usually did.”

“Hmmm, most likely. As we’ll never have this conversation, I suppose we’ll never really find out. Hey, are you going to tell your mother?”

“Are you insane????

“Heh, I didn’t think so.”

“Dad, do you think I’ll handle this correctly? I really don’t want to fuck it up.”

“Listen to that girl, what your friend Mary said – you won’t. You don’t give yourself enough credit, son. You’re much more a being of light than darkness yourself, you know. I’ve told you, you’re a good father. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks dad.

Dad, I miss you.”

“I miss you too Troy. And I’ll be right here, waiting for you when you come over. But not just yet, not until many years from now, when you have entered the winter of your life.

•••

A note concerning today’s tune. It doesn’t have a direct link to the above per say, other than the fact that it is the song that has been stuck inside the heads of both myself and my beautiful, heel-hoofing darling boy as of late.

Don’t listen, unless you want it getting stuck in your head as well…

* The first quote was from “Shadow of the Night” by Deborah Harkness. The second, from “Winter Journal” by Paul Auster.

Happily ever after, in heels.

Listen, we deserved the break. Amongst all the issues we’re embroiled with currently, I felt we had earned just a little breather. So this Sunday last, C and myself got all gussied up (apparently a dying art, these days) before going downtown to catch the final local performance of “Priscilla: Queen Of The Desert.”

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We had a blast, and I dare say that I never wanted it to end. Planning on making an evening of it, we were only slightly miffed when we discovered that our favorite late night restaurant is most decidedly not very “late night open” when it comes to Sunday. Catching the Wendy’s drive-through window instead, we settled onto the couch for a late night snack, before hitting the sack. As is her way, C went off to bed in order to sleep. As is my way, I went off to bed in the hopes that we would be doing any number of things, but sleep.

As is her way, C won out in the end.

I woke the next morning feeling odd, out of sorts, almost as if something were amiss. The songs from the musical played over and over on my mental radio, as I performed the tasks I daily perform to almost get paid, but they provided me with no real joy – nothing close to what I felt the night before. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what I was feeling, until the very second that the Daily Post’s prompt came stumbling across my email. Their prompt for the day punched me square in the gut, when they asked “Are you living happily ever after?” A question that the very core of my being answered immediately – and almost violently – with a “No. No I am not living happily ever after. No I am not even close to that. What in the hell is wrong with me?”

A valid question I think, to end an almost sinful assertion. I mean, what right do I have to not be living happily ever after? Just what more do I expect needs to be in place for this happiness to finally hit?

Well, I believe the problem is two-fold. First, I feel that “happily ever after,” is a bit of a cop out. One devised by early story tellers who just wanted to be done with the whole thing already, and no questions being asked, thank you very much. Secondly, I believe that much like the characters in my last Mash-up prompt, I sometimes (read: way too often) spend too much energy chasing a happiness that I think I deserve, instead of simply relishing in the Joy already bestowed upon me.

Listen, catching a good show can be fun, but one should never get so dragged into it (no pun intended) as to start to wish that that was what their real life was like. Real life isn’t that easy or free. Real life doesn’t involve people randomly breaking out into song. But that doesn’t mean that real life shouldn’t be appreciated or isn’t worthwhile. Indeed, real life is the only life to be lived, regardless of how many of us never do.

The Daily Prompt also asked us to explain how we would go about changing ourselves so that “happily ever after” could be obtainable. To that, I’ve no answer but one: I’m going to just get over myself. I’m going to stop being so damned dramatic, stop wishing for things I don’t have, start enjoying the blessings I do have, and realize every day that real life ain’t easy, but it’s worth it regardless.

That, and I’m also going to give this randomly breaking out into song thing a go as well. You may want to cover your ears.