An open letter to Cinderella

I haven't seen any glass slippers lately.  And I don't know about you, but my alarm in the morning sounds nothing like birds singing.  Life seems to be so up in the air, that there is a lack of air.  And unlike the fairy tale, there may not be a happy ending.

We are taught, from a young age, that stories are simple.  They have a beginning, middle and end.  There is a climax and a downfall.  No one ever says otherwise.  And that is how we live.  So when looking at the story of a relationship, how do you know where the end actually is?  What if the end is only the middle--or even pre-beginning?  We want everything to be tied up with a neat little bow and, most of the time, want to know the ending before the story even begins.  Is this just being cautious--or is it being smart? 

I would like to say so long to Cinderella.  The idea of her perfect ending makes everything more confusing.  We live everyday not knowing--and perhaps not understanding.  And what gets us through is the fact that we will find out what will happen eventually.  It may not be the ending that we had in mind, but somehow, it will be the right ending.  Otherwise, we wouldn't read the storybook to begin with.