Girls are taught a lot of stuff growing up.
If a boy punches you he likes you
Never 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 focused on finding
our happy ending we don’t learn how to read the signs
How to tell the ones who want us from 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, and broken hearts,
through the blunders and misread signals,
through all the pain and embarrassment,
YOU NEVER GIVE UP HOPE.
