Girls are taught a lot of stuff growing up.
If a guy punches you he likes you. Never try to trim your own bangs and someday you will
meet a wonderful guy and get your very own happy ending. Every movie we see, every
story we're told implores us to wait for it, the third act twist, the unexpected declaration of
love, the exception to the rule. But sometimes we're so focused on finding our happy
ending we don't learn how to read the signs. How to tell from the ones who want us and
the ones who don't, the ones who will stay and the ones who will leave. And maybe a
happy ending doesn't include a guy, maybe... it's you, on your own, picking up the
pieces and starting over, freeing yourself up for something better in the future. Maybe
the happy ending is... just... moving on. Or maybe the happy ending is this, knowing
after all the unreturned phone calls, broken-hearts, through the blunders and misread
signals, through all the pain and embarrassment you never gave up hope.