I just watched A Love Song for Bobby Long with my sister. It was a good movie. I enjoyed it, even though there were moments where John Travolta got on my nerves and Scarlett Johanson made me completely envious of her beauty. The ending got me thinking, though. The majority of the film was an up and down roller coaster of odd and sometimes awkward and fucked up relationships, of varying types. But then you had the end. In the end, things worked out. Everyone picked up the pieces and ended up happy. Once we shut off the TV, I realized it had rubbed me a little wrong, and I got to thinking about why. Decided that it was the ending. It was too perfect. Things don't happen like that in real life, because life is messy.

And it struck me. That's it. Life is messy. And sometimes it's a really shitty mess. But what counts is what we make out of that mess. The stories that we write with it. The things that we learn. Whether or not we chose to make the best of things and write our own un-perfect messy ending, that for us, might in fact turn out to be that perfect ending, even though it's nothing like what we might have imagined at the beginning of our journey.