I've been thinking a lot about happy endings--mostly about how there aren't really happy endings, just the moment of happiness where you believe everything will be alright. But that before, as they say at the very end of The Princess Bride , the wounds re-open, the thing you thought was cured comes back, and love has a falling out. Yep, cheery thoughts about happy endings, right? It's quite telling about where I was mentally. I thought I was being a realist--you know, acclimating myself to the realities of the world. Toughening myself up. Facing the hard truth. Guess what? Reality stinks. Seriously. If all these hard truths and realities are all that make up life--REAL LIFE--then call me a dreamer and a optimist. Call me any sort of "poor her, she doesn't know what's really out there" type of names and I'll happily take them. I love my world of dreams and hope and faith. It's warm. It's cozy. It's filled with endless po