I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour

But heaven knows I'm miserable now-

- The Smiths

This is a story about a boy. About a boy who found love when a girl broke his heart.

He's angry, at first.

Hell, he has every right to be. She's married. Summer could never bring herself to call what they (once upon a time) had a 'relationship.' He couldn't ever remember her uttering the words 'boy and friend.' And here she was getting married. It was idiotic. It didn't make sense. He told her so.

"It doesn't make any sense."

He vaguely hears her response. He is too busy wallowing in his own self pity and worthlessness. The gears grind and tumble in his head as he replays the situation over and over and over again.

And wonders. Wonders how it came to this. She had warned him this wasn't going to be serious. She had told him that they were just friends. But the way she kissed him, the way she looked at him, the way she laughed at his lame jokes… they said something else.

The next time someone says 'actions speak louder than words', Tom decides he's going to punch them in the face.

She pauses, and he realizes she is waiting for him to speak. So he does, a guttural spewing of bitterness and cynicism. Deep down, Tom wonders if he really means any of it or if he is just lashing out at the girl who broke his heart. The girl who taught him what love is. He laughs sullenly to mask the pain … ironic, the girl who didn't believe in love.

So he wants to know. He wants to know how she found 'love.' She replies, but he doesn't really care about the answer. It was a leading question, and maybe he knows the answer before he asks, but at this point, he needs to know.

"And that's when I knew."

"Knew what?"

"What I never was sure of with you."

He's shocked when his first reaction isn't that he cannot breathe. He's equally shocked when he realizes the small grin on his face.

He mumbles a response.

It's all clear now.

She holds his hand. Her touch is soft. Her eyes are heavy with guilt. She says 'goodbye' and he knows she is looking for closure.

He gives it to her. He jumps up, calling her name. She turns gracefully and he wishes her the best, that he hopes she is happy.

And he means it.

Here was the story of a girl, who could never love, until she met him.

This was never the story of a boy.

He smiles. And the bitterness and the cynicism and the hate washes away with a dawning realization.

This story was about a girl. About a girl who found love when a boy fixed her broken heart.