like… If a boy 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. Like 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.
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 once gave up on Hope.
— He’s Just Not That Into You
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