"Isn't that what friends do? They leave."

Maybe he's not like every other guy. You know, the douchebags we read about in books. Maybe he's my prince. My fairy-tale. My happy ending. Maybe I looked past him too fast. Judged him too hard. Maybe he's different. I know what mom's told me a million times after dad left us. Maybe what she said was wrong. For us, anyway. Maybe I have some re-calculating to do. Maybe I just have to think again.