Girls
are
taught
a lot
of stuff
growing
up.
If a guy punches
you he likes you.
Never x x
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
unexpected declaration of love, 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
e m b a r r
a s s m e n t y o u n e v e r g a v e u p h o p e.
