My Dear, Relentless from Spirit's Tales

He took another drag from the cigarette and watched the birds cross the sky headed for the south. He enjoyed watching nature, it was almost as soothing as his smoke-almost. Calib caught a whiff of something putrid, he looked down and spied a smelly banana covered in flies. Turning his head, he looked down to his other side. The bag lay as if neglected at his side. He was simply at his wits end trying to stay sane and the predicament which had befallen him. His wits weren't as good now a days either, Calib was 75 and he could feel all those little years knawing away at the joints in his legs and arms. Yes, Calib felt death approaching and he still wasn't sure if he was ready. Why, who the hell was ready for that, anyway. Calib chuckled and brought the cigarette to his cracked lips. He pulled the smoke in deeply. Calib felt the whole world suddenly get bigger and spin as another one died somewhere far away.

"Damn, this never ceases to startle me." Standing slowly, Calib's knees creaked and his whispy grey hair fell in his eyes. He looked down beside him at the garbage bag. Calib had a gift it seemed. Sometimes, when a person died, Calib could feel it. Calib had sensed the gift as a teen when one of his friends killed himself. He didn't like the feeling then and he damn sure didn't like it now. Hundreds of times in the past, Calib had been a morbid reciever of death. The moment when time stood still, reversed and then restarted, Calib was convinced. No, he wasn't a skeptic. He just accepted the gift as an occurance that could not be explained. Then, when it happened over and over, Calib accepted it as a portion of his life. When Calib lost Pepper, the only thing he felt was empty.

"Poor old Pepper, he was a good dog." Calib spoke to no one in particular. His eyes closed taking in the stale air. He flicked his cigarette but into the soft dirt behind him. Calib stared at Pepper's bag and frowned. Pepper had been with Calib since he was a puppy, and he was a damn good dog. Pepper was clean and very smart, hell, he didn't even bark all that much.

But lately,about a week before his death, Pepper started acting strange. The dog would pace back and forth in front of the door and whine. As time went on, Pepper began to speak to Calib. First it was a few sounds that were odd and almost like a human gag. Then Pepper started to speak simple words. Calib would be cleaning his gun and Pepper would speak to him. When Calib was in his recliner, Pepper would always come to sit at his feet. Calib would reach down and scratch between Pepper's ears and talk to him. Just silly words really, but an obvious expression of love from Calib to an obedient dog. But this time, Pepper spoke back.

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Happiness ever after

I was checking Facebook recently when I saw a wall post from one of my friends. I can’t remember the exact quote but I remember the line “Happily Ever After doesn’t have to be forever” or something close to that. I thought it was a very nice statement, both real and yet not sad. In my mind at least she was saying enjoy the moment, don’t worry that the good times won’t last.
To me it seemed a very adult way at looking at love and at life itself. We can struggle looking for that perfection, that Prince Charming or Snow White, or we can live life to its fullest with what we have. To many people toss aside wonderful relationships looking for a perfection that is ephemeral.
It was a more cheerful version of one of my favorite sayings. Happily Ever After has a very short shelf life. To me that’s two polar opposite ways of viewing the same thing. So much is transitory in life including true love. There’s the old song that says “When it’s love it will last forever.” That’s only true with your last love. We as humans have the capacity to find true love, see it shattered, only to find it all over again. We swear it was meant to be, and end up swearing affidavits or just swearing at each other.
The love that poets write about and balladeers croon too is pretty much fiction. If you doubt me just look at the personal lives of most of these people. Poets tend to be habitual womanizers, and if you want to know about the sensitive song writers just Google John Mayer and any of his former girlfriends. That eternal “true” love is something we all dream about, but are all to often rudely awoken. The truth, hard and cold, is that love is transitory.
I’m sure those currently in love would disagree with me. I’m just as sure that a year from now 50% of those people will no longer be in love with the same person. True Love has a horrible burn out rate. Just look at the divorce rate and the number of tattoo cover ups if you doubt me. True love isn’t something that happens, at least not with two people. It’s something that takes work, devotion and a thick skin. It is possible for one person to fall in love. Far to often this is the case and it is tragically sad.


read on here to page   http://socyberty.com/philosophy/happily-ever-after-for-a-moment/2/