Girls
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This rant was written because a nice girl finally snapped.
This is my tribute to the nice girls. To the nice girls who are overlooked, who become friends and nothing more, who spend hours fixating upon their looks and their personalities and their actions because it must be they that are doing something wrong. This is for the girls who dont give it up on the first date, who dont want to play mind games, who provide a comforting hug and a supportive audience for a story theyve heard a thousand times. This is for the girls who understand that they arent perfect and that the guys theyre interested in arent either, for the girls who flirt and laugh and worry and obsess over the slightest glance, whisper, touch, because somehow they are able to keep alive that hope that maybe maybe this time hell have understood. This is an homage to the girls who laugh loud and often, who are comfortable in skirts and sweats and combat boots, who care more than they should for guys who dont deserve their attention. This is for those girls who have been in the trenches, who have watched other girls time and time again fake up and make up and **** up the guys in their lives without saying a word. This is for the girls who have been there from the beginning and have heard the trite words of advice, from “there are plenty of fish in the sea,” to “time heals all wounds.” This is to honor those girls who know that guys are just as scared as they are, who know that they deserve better, who are seeking to find it.
This is for the girls who have never been in love, but know that its an experience that they dont want to miss out on. For the girls who have sought a night with friends and been greeted by a night of catcalling, rude comments and explicit invitations that theyd rather not have experienced. This is for the girls who have spent their weekends sitting on the sidelines of a beer pong tournament or a case race, or playing Florence Nightingale for a vomiting guy friend or a comatose crush, who have received a drunk phone call just before dawn from someone who doesnt care enough to invite them over but is still willing to pass out in their bed. This is for the girls who have left sad song lyrics in their away messages, who have tried to make someone understand through a subliminally appealing profile, who have time and time again dropped their male friend hint after hint after hint only to watch him chase after the first blonde girl in a skirt. This is for the girls who have been told that theyre too good or too smart or too pretty, who have been given compliments as a way of breaking off a relationship, who have ever been told they are only wanted as a friend.
This ones for the girls who you can take home to mom, but wont because its easier to sleep with a whore than foster a relationship; this is for the girls who have been led on by words and kisses and touches, all of which were either only true for the moment, or never real to begin with. This is for the girls who have allowed a guy into their head and heart and bed, only to discover that hes just not ready, hes just not over her, hes just not looking to be tied down; this is for the girls who believe the excuses because its easier to believe that its not that they dont want you, its that they dont want anyone. This is for the girls who have had their hearts broken and their hopes dashed by someone too cavalier to have cared in the first place; this is for the nights spent dissecting every word and syllable and inflection in his speech, for the nights when youve returned home alone, for the nights when youve seen from across the room him leaning a little too close, or standing a little too near, or talking a little too softly for the girl hes with to be a random hookup. This is for the girls who have endured party after party in his presence, finally having realized that it wasnt that he didnt want a relationship: it was that he didnt want you. I honor you for the night his dog died or his grandmother died or his little brother crashed his car and you held him, thinking that if you only comforted him just right, or said the right words, or rubbed his back in the right way then perhaps hed realize what it was that he already had. This is for the night you realized that it would never happen, and the sunrise you saw the next morning after failing to sleep.
This is for the “I really like you, so lets still be friends” comment after you read more into a situation than he ever intended; this is for never realizing that when you choose friends, you seldom choose those which make you cry yourself to sleep. This is for the hugs youve received from your female friends, for the nights theyve reassured you that you are beautiful and intelligent and amazing and loyal and truly worthy of a great guy; this is for the despair you all felt as you sat in the aftermath of your tears, knowing that that night the only companionship youd have was with a pillow and your teddy bear. This is for the girls who have been used and abused, who have endured what he was giving because at least he was giving something; this is for the stupidity of the nights weve believed that something was better than nothing, though his something was nothing wed have ever wanted. This is for the girls who have been satisified with too little and who have learned never to expect anything more: for the girls who dont think that they deserve more, because theyve been conditioned for so long to accept the scraps thrown to them by guys.
This is what I dont