pg8: Please don't let the light through my window
This post's title courtesy of The Coral - The Grey Harpoon (off "Nightfreak & The Sons of Becker.")
I so wanted this good mood of mine to last. I just don't know at this point. I don't think anybody could blame me after the blight that began my day. It's not really even the same old teenage melodrama. It's more an exclamation that puts me back in my place as punchline of a giant cosmic joke.
I mean, I'm still feeling fairly upbeat... I wasn't tired today after work last night... school was tolerable today... saw Kyle & Lauren when I got out of Desktop Publishing early (and the entire class turned out to be a worthless lecture of Adobe Acrobat.) And I'm listening to the Spamalot soundtrack, which really elevates me, makes me nostalgic, but at least it's entertaining in its own right, not just to remind me of a good time in my life.
But there's this, uh... thing. It seems so typical of my life that things would end up like this. Like I said, "cosmic joke." I'm trying not to be too maudlin about it, because I'm not too depressed, just kinda humbled.
Last week, as I mentioned, I met Rachel's friend Tash* (for so she is called as she uses that abbreviation, and "Natasha" is the girl at work, so the distinction is important,) at Screemers. And then for like two days Rachel and I had conversations about how "on" I was, and how Tasha and I really "hit it off." And I think I used the word "cool" in reference to her about six times in this blog.
So this morning, Rachel and I are talking, and she segués from an anecdote about her evening (which bore some analysis itself,) into "you and Tash." And I think, "wait, there's a 'me and Tash' to discuss?" And for about three minutes I was excited about the direction of the conversation. It shouldn't come as a surprise that I harboured a bit of a schoolboy crush on her after our meeting. And the fact that we were even discussing this a week on seemed to confirm to me that we hit it off as well as anybody ever did.
Which is when she says, "I won't get into it, but she is in a bad relationship."
Of course she's in a relationship.
Why wouldn't she be?
They all are.
Now there certain things I have done in the past... albeit begrudgingly. Things I wouldn't do again. Things I only ever did in the first place because she desperately pushed me into it.
But all in all this represents the fact that this sort of thing is a recurring pattern for me; that all the cool girls are taken... taken by jerks who don't appreciate them. That "nice guys" such as myself do indeed "finish last." That I can never seem to catch a break, and that indeed, I feel kicked-while-down. I know I've said I was no longer depressed, but it's a process - I was trying to climb out of my depression. I was still down, but looking up. Now the universe has kicked me in the face.
It's unfortunate too, since I had made a concerted effort not to get into it mentally, since I was all thinking "gee, I'm not gonna see her again for a long time, if ever," etc, etc. And then this... oy. It's the girl, and it's the universe.
I dunno, man. I just couldn't do my writing without getting that out. That was the day. It wasn't helped by the stormy mid-November weather.
Apparently, it's Christmas now, despite my argument to the contrary. Just ask the mall.
Well, that's life, y'know?
KOR
-SAW
posted by Scott at 8:32:00 pm
3 Comments:
Can I laugh? Because I really want to laugh at the two of us and how we have the same stupid piss of a problem. This sucks. BIG TIME. At least your chick is in a bad relationship so she'll probably get out of it and date you. My guy has been dating his girlfriend for more than a year. I stand no chance.
Ana
This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.
This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.
This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.
The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.
So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.
I didn't write it but I thought you could relate.
Keep positive gorgeous
Steph
Oh, the essays that could be written on the marvels of women-folk.
Of course, now I've been sucked in, and having been saddled with some sort of "Love Afficianado" title by many of my friends... I feel compelled to display their reasonings for labelling me as such.
To start off: let's get one thing straight. There are two sides to every story, and while I see myself as the typical nice guy, lacking in the love department... I've noticed that as much as we love to put ourselves up on that pedistel, we're the same way.
I know you've been in the situation: nearly everyone has. There's this girl that you like (you may change the gender to suit your specific situation, all you millions of Screaming Scott Fans). She's witty, she's perfect, and dammit, she's the Potential Love of your Be-All-End-All Life, you just KNOW it. You talk with her, and she talks with you, and you share things with each other that you don't share with other people.
In fact, you're so comfortable with each other, that when she shares all kinds of stories about how much she loves her boyfriend despite the things that he's done, you'll smile and agree. And when things are bad between your Impossible Object of Love and her boyfriend, you tell her that everything is okay.
Why? Because you'll do anything to see her happy. You like her that much, and... well, if you're confident enough in yourself, you might even *love* her that much to sacrifice your own emotions.
But... just like how she'll talk to you about the Love of Her Life... you'll probably talk with someone else about the Potential Love of Your Life. Chances are, she'll be a girl, because guys? They don't really get all that emotional stuff. Case in point: that jerk of a boyfriend of hers. He doesn't get it, otherwise, she'd be talking to HIM about that stuff, and you? You clearly get it, because you're one of those *special guys* who do. But, because you're very *alone* with this... comfortablility with your own emotions, you're going to find yourself a girl.
Because girls are the only ones who "get it".
And you'll talk to this girl, and you'll share things with her that you won't even share with anyone else. Not even the Potential Love of Your Life.
You see where I'm going here?
The Potential Love of Your Life is sharing all the joys and pains of her life with you. In turn, you do the same thing with someone else, and guess what? I doubt that you ever notice if they like you more than that, because... well... they might very well like-and-or-love you enough to keep your feelings the closest to their hearts.
How can you tell this is the case? Look at what you do. When you have conversations with the Potential Love of Your Life, how one sided is the conversation? She will talk about her love life to no end, the good, and the bad, and you will take it all in. If she asks you about your love life... what will you say? You'll stutter a bit maybe. Depending on whether or not you believe telling the truth to this girl is important ot not, you'll either lie, or tell her it's complicated, or vaguely allude to... some girl you might like, but aren't really sure what to do about it.
If the girl you confess all your Unrequited Love to is doing the same? Guess what. You're that guy. You're that guy who can't see what they have, right in front of their face.
The whole thing ends of being ironic. Everyone in that situation is doing what they do out of love for someone else, and the sad truth of the matter is? You can't like, or love someone, who doesn't at least *like* you back.
That girl that you can't have? She might see you for the person that you are one day. But right now? She has eyes for someone else. And that girl who you confess all you're feelings to?
She cares for you. She likes you. She's one of those "nice girls" you hear so much about, who will like you for you.
Now, I might just be crazy. Who knows. Right now, I'm going after this girl who has burned me before, and who may or may not give me another chance to show her how nice a guy I am in the future. And while I'm doing that... there's this other girl who can see it, and who will take it all in for me, and tell me to do what I think is right. Follow my heart, everything will be okay.
So I try not to complain about "not getting any", because... as much as I'd like to think I'm a nice guy... I'm not. Not in that situation. I'm just another guy who can't see someone who cares enough about me to sacrifice their own feelings.
And I don't like it, but it's true, at least in my case, and possibly (whether it's admitted or not) in many other people's cases.
Just some food for thought.
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