It started in a crowded kitchen, early December. I haven’t seen Damian in weeks and he’s drunk. Offering me cake and burritos because that kid knows exactly how to make me fall in love. Everyone has their coats on, and there’s traffic going each way through the front door next to us. Damian’s leaning up against the oven and keeps accidently turning it on.
There’s this conversation about what it is to be the Nice Guy. To always finish last. At this age, being the nice guy is the last thing you want to be. And I can’t argue, because of this scene that took place minutes before I got here.
{In the street I’m walking to my car, where I run into Ship on his bike. He’s got his hair cut and I want to melt into the asphalt and ice. I think he can tell and in the middle of our conversation hits me with
“We’re not doing anything tonight. So just don’t think of it.”
Fuck. But it’s not a surprise when he says these things. Things that hurt but luckily I have that ego to bandaid me.}
I can’t argue with Damian because I know that after Ship gets drunk, he’s going to change his mind and he’s going to text me and ask me over. And I’ll go. Probably only for the sole fact that he’s not nice to me. (And I did).
Damian: We have one spokesperson for the Nice Guy. We got Michael Cera. That’s it. That’s fucking it.
I’m thinking, I’d do Michael Cera. But it’s not so much the point.
Damian would never tell me what to do. But, he makes a good argument on behalf of the Nice Guy. They never get the chance because in your early twenties it’s not what girls like me are looking for. Later, when we’re looking for baby batter, that’s when the Nice Guy gets his. But now, we need an asshole who’ll take us down a notch.
A few days later when a Nice Guy asks me out, I agreed.
So I go out with this really sweet kid. Really good looking, in college, has a job. But he’s timid, shy, and only 20 so I feel awkward. In conversation I feel like I have to censor myself because I’m afraid of offending him. I spend the whole night saying “freaking” and “gosh”, crossing my legs, keeping my hands to myself and trying to play Mormon.
It hits me, I am so used to the role of Nice Girl I’m not sure what my identity is when I’m with a Nice Guy. By the end of the date we’ve made plans to go out again.
Over the next week I’m reflecting, on my relationships. Who I am in relation to who I’m with. When I go out on my second date I don’t repress anything. And for 2 hours that kid sits and hears me talk about the jerks I go out with, the sex, douche bags I give my time to. Basically the only thing I ever talk about with anyone who wants to listen to me.
This guy, he’s amazing. A genuine great guy. And props to him for sitting and listening to my bullshit. But I couldn’t see myself getting involved with someone like him. So this was my way of avoiding the conversation “I don’t like you like that”. I’ve never been too keen on being brutally honest, even when I should, when it’s necessary.
After this second date I don’t think he’s interested in me anymore.
Same night I end up at the bar, feeling horrible about everything that just went down. Thinking I really shouldn’t have agreed to go out with him in the first place. Cause let’s face it, I’m that girl who digs the guy who’ll only care about her when he’s drunk and wants to get his dick wet. I’m that chick who’ll stay up for hours waiting for someone to decide if he wants me over or not…who’ll later slip up and say something that really hurts….such as mentioning the other girl he’d rather be with right now.
I have to be the victim in my relationships, so I can play the nice girl. Otherwise I’m the asshole and it makes me feel uncomfortable.
I see Damian, I tell him about my catastrophic date. He apologizes, I shrug. It’s just the way the universe works.
Alright, now. My favorite part. Same night, after the bar closes. Jk and I are sitting in my car. Heater on blast, windows down, some guy pissing in the corner. I’m looking at Jonathan Kelley and for some reason I tell him I have a secret to spill. Some secret I’ve been keeping under my tongue for weeks. Before I can say anything he just starts laughing and says “Darlin, I know more than I should already”.
This secret, I like a boy. One of those Nice Guys, only one that could probably keep up with me. Not really a secret cause I can’t keep a god damn secret about myself to save my life. But JK was the first I admitted it to.
That night, the boy I like, kissed me.
So I’ve been hanging out with him a lot. No sex. Just 18,372 second conversations. No sex. Just mix cd exchanges. No sex. Because I’m not feeling pressured.
He left today, back to his hometown. I ended up back at Shipwreck’s apartment, on his couch, and he tells me about a girl who gave him her number, with the prospect of hooking up with him. Normally not a big deal but the girl just happens to be someone who was close to me…who’s not anymore due to personality conflicts. Ship smiles and makes a comment about what it’s going to be like after he fucks her. I tell him I won’t talk to him again if he does *pause* but it’s not like it’d effect you that much. He just sits there thinking about sleeping with her, doesn’t combat my remark.
Yeah he’s kidding…hopefully. Yeah he’s just trying to get me to react. Yeah actually I don’t know why the fuck he’s telling me this.
And that’s when it happened. I’m not one of those girls. Yes, I love Shipwreck. And I have for so god damn long. Every rude or fucked up thing he’s said to me, gets written off by the pure endearment I have for that kid. It’s not reciprocated in every way I want it to be but I put up with it because I just adore the guy unconditionally.
Yeah, I love him but not enough to forgive him for what he may or may not be thinking of doing. He said he wouldn’t tell me if it happens. Cause it can’t hurt me if I don’t know about it. Then says if I get upset over it, I’m letting her win. He has no idea how offensive he’s coming off right now, or how hurt I actually am. It’s my fault; I never express myself properly when I’m hurt. I just hold my breath and hope he stops talking so I can rationalize it in my head. Pet the ego better until she can get back up again.
It’s just this whole situation of Nice Guy vs. Asshole. Damian’s right, I always pick the asshole. For some reason I like to give out a lot of love to someone who doesn’t know what to do with it.
I’m fucking sick of it.
So here’s to the Nice Guy: Watch out. I’m coming for you.
That's amazing how you can consciously decide to do that. Because most of us give up that control and decide that we're not going to even try controlling who we care for (I mean, do you think I'd waste my time on the person I waste my time on if I was strong enough to decide for myself?). Maybe if we actually tried to control it, maybe if we decided who was best for us we would be happier.
ReplyDeleteBut I don't think, at twenty, I'm old enough or mature enough or experienced enough to give up the freedom of misery.
Happy Christmas! x
Elle I miss your face and I see you've lit your facebook on fire, which I admire, but I'm saddened cause it's how I communicate with those who aren't living down the block from me.
ReplyDeleteThere's so much to tell you. Such as, how I fell hard in like with a boy, which resulted in my car warming up for two hours while I laid on his bed and talked about how much his comforter looks like my shower curtain.
Or how I spent one night crying at the bar uncontrollably.
Or how I ran into your boy at said bar.
ELLE, damnit I need to call you.
With that said, I have to admit, I'm quitting the asshole magnet disease but it's with a crutch. And I've attempted this before only to have it blow up in my face cause the crutch ended up being just another asshole. Fingers crossed.
Without something to wean me off, I'm afraid I couldn't stand up for myself. I am that pathetic. But this time feels kind of different cause I think I like this guy, not because it's necessary for me to do so I can sever myself from a guy who just keeps hurting me but just because I really like him.
I'm becoming full of mush, and I can't wait until you come back.
And Merry Christmas!!!
SUNNIE. I will call you tomorrow. Sometime before 3. Because you probably work after three. Hopefully you're not at Ship's place. For both our sakes.
ReplyDeleteI'm coming back the fifth.
A full month before I turn 21.
A full month before I join bar culture.
We have much to discuss. <3
I'm so glad you found this nice guy. I just want to kiss him for pulling you away from Shipwreck. But then that wouldn't be okay. :P
ReplyDelete