Nice Guys Finish 26th.
I'm in for a ride, but I don't know where I'm going.
Scratch that. I don't feel like being the vague poet today and metaphoring my way through my current issues. Let's just be blunt about it, shall we? Rhiannon burned me. I knew she would, but she stayed a step ahead of me and insulted me in such a fashion that I'm almost too impressed to be upset. Almost.
I've often thought that I shouldn't be so nice, but always opt against it. As usual, this incident brought this up again. However, a couple day's reflections and additional and otherwise seemingly innocent examples showed that maybe there was something to it. I mean, look at me, people? do I make new friends? Hardly. I've made two in Lawrence since I moved here in 2002: Darren and Sean. I've lived with both and both have left, for whatever the reason. They are still friends, but sometimes I fear that it's out of convenience or habit. Other friends? Well, I almost never make any, or even meet anyone.
I don't date either. I'll go spans of full years without a date. Yet, always playing the nice, dependable guy is still compromising every step of the way. There's just no point in it anymore, so I quit. I mean, look at the situation: girls tell me that I'm the greatest guy in the world (see: girls that are safely taken or aren't interested and are speaking empty words) and that I deserve someone special; also, it's a girl's loss if she doesn't see how perfect I truly am. Grade A, first class, government approved bullshit. These are the same girls that still only date the jerkoffs (you know, the ones that feign sweetness to appease their guilt but remain assholes to appease their actual attraction) until their biological clocks go off at age 26, and then they hook up with the males they purposefully ignored their whole life. Oh the male will be happy - it's what he's always wanted - but he'll have no idea that she's using him selfishly. I'll know. I might even still be happy, but I'll know. I resent that.
To still digress, I now realize that while nice guys may deserve women and happiness, they don't earn it. One has to earn whatever, and being a pushover nice twit just allows the douchebags to stroll in and earn it for you. Now then, where was I?
So wax on, wax off and I say whatever I want. Now then, I'm almost instantly challenged on many levels to test whether I've actually got what it takes to be a dick. Immediately, I find a piece of information about a girl that showed interest in me (you know, because I stopped being nice), but my good friend is actively trying to date her. Now then, I may have lowered my morals about infidelity, but to screw over a best friend? No, they hold special privileges, don't they?
Later that day, my good pal Mike informs me that I'm trying my hardest to fuck his girl, and that I need to stop it, stat. To be less dramatic, I'm "being disrespectful by flirting way out of place and it's making her uncomfortable." This is, of course, coming from the guy who saw us hug once and got pissed because he could swear we were making out right in front of him, but what can you do? Well I'm not buckling under this, because it's bullshit, so I tell him to fuck off and he throws other shit in my face, and I continue with plan "fuck off" until he stops trying the forced high ground and moves down to actual sincerity. Now, I don't flirt with Becca anymore than I do with a puppy (well, I guess I pet puppies - I don't really pet her), but he's been paranoid before, and his confused mother seems to also see a hug as blatant dry-humping, because she apparently fueled the idea. Unfortunately, under the constant guise of friendship, I'm almost certain that Michael has held a certain contempt for me, though I don't know that he would even admit it while he's alone with himself.
Well, I've solved that Becca problem. Much to my disappointment, I'm just never going to speak to her again, since that seems to be the root of the problem. That also solves my first problem, as it is Becca's friend that showed the interest, so now I don't see a fashion in which I will ever see her again. Shawn's happy. Michael's happy.
I feel like my friends are all drifting away. I actually have a huge 5 hour paper due in the morning that I haven't started yet; I just have too much on my mind to care. I truly don't care about this stuff. I don't know what to do. Chad offered a month ago a spot in his upcoming house, but...it never works out...I've always had to move or they have at the year's end. A house is a long-term project.
So I'm here just wondering what to do. If Mike saw this, he would resent it. So would Shawn, out of principle that I even considered trying to think of his(?) girl. The female friends I have will throw those said empty gestures, and Chad will vaguely reissue the housing offer. Darren will say something cryptic about how it's not a convenience or habit to know me, and Sarah will be mad that I left her out entirely. Meanwhile, I've risked all this to get this off my chest, and I still don't have the notion that I give a shit about this assignment tomorrow.
I shot an arrow into the air, and I'm still waiting to see where it falls. Wherever it does, I just don't know that I can apologize for it. Not anymore.
Scratch that. I don't feel like being the vague poet today and metaphoring my way through my current issues. Let's just be blunt about it, shall we? Rhiannon burned me. I knew she would, but she stayed a step ahead of me and insulted me in such a fashion that I'm almost too impressed to be upset. Almost.
I've often thought that I shouldn't be so nice, but always opt against it. As usual, this incident brought this up again. However, a couple day's reflections and additional and otherwise seemingly innocent examples showed that maybe there was something to it. I mean, look at me, people? do I make new friends? Hardly. I've made two in Lawrence since I moved here in 2002: Darren and Sean. I've lived with both and both have left, for whatever the reason. They are still friends, but sometimes I fear that it's out of convenience or habit. Other friends? Well, I almost never make any, or even meet anyone.
I don't date either. I'll go spans of full years without a date. Yet, always playing the nice, dependable guy is still compromising every step of the way. There's just no point in it anymore, so I quit. I mean, look at the situation: girls tell me that I'm the greatest guy in the world (see: girls that are safely taken or aren't interested and are speaking empty words) and that I deserve someone special; also, it's a girl's loss if she doesn't see how perfect I truly am. Grade A, first class, government approved bullshit. These are the same girls that still only date the jerkoffs (you know, the ones that feign sweetness to appease their guilt but remain assholes to appease their actual attraction) until their biological clocks go off at age 26, and then they hook up with the males they purposefully ignored their whole life. Oh the male will be happy - it's what he's always wanted - but he'll have no idea that she's using him selfishly. I'll know. I might even still be happy, but I'll know. I resent that.
To still digress, I now realize that while nice guys may deserve women and happiness, they don't earn it. One has to earn whatever, and being a pushover nice twit just allows the douchebags to stroll in and earn it for you. Now then, where was I?
So wax on, wax off and I say whatever I want. Now then, I'm almost instantly challenged on many levels to test whether I've actually got what it takes to be a dick. Immediately, I find a piece of information about a girl that showed interest in me (you know, because I stopped being nice), but my good friend is actively trying to date her. Now then, I may have lowered my morals about infidelity, but to screw over a best friend? No, they hold special privileges, don't they?
Later that day, my good pal Mike informs me that I'm trying my hardest to fuck his girl, and that I need to stop it, stat. To be less dramatic, I'm "being disrespectful by flirting way out of place and it's making her uncomfortable." This is, of course, coming from the guy who saw us hug once and got pissed because he could swear we were making out right in front of him, but what can you do? Well I'm not buckling under this, because it's bullshit, so I tell him to fuck off and he throws other shit in my face, and I continue with plan "fuck off" until he stops trying the forced high ground and moves down to actual sincerity. Now, I don't flirt with Becca anymore than I do with a puppy (well, I guess I pet puppies - I don't really pet her), but he's been paranoid before, and his confused mother seems to also see a hug as blatant dry-humping, because she apparently fueled the idea. Unfortunately, under the constant guise of friendship, I'm almost certain that Michael has held a certain contempt for me, though I don't know that he would even admit it while he's alone with himself.
Well, I've solved that Becca problem. Much to my disappointment, I'm just never going to speak to her again, since that seems to be the root of the problem. That also solves my first problem, as it is Becca's friend that showed the interest, so now I don't see a fashion in which I will ever see her again. Shawn's happy. Michael's happy.
I feel like my friends are all drifting away. I actually have a huge 5 hour paper due in the morning that I haven't started yet; I just have too much on my mind to care. I truly don't care about this stuff. I don't know what to do. Chad offered a month ago a spot in his upcoming house, but...it never works out...I've always had to move or they have at the year's end. A house is a long-term project.
So I'm here just wondering what to do. If Mike saw this, he would resent it. So would Shawn, out of principle that I even considered trying to think of his(?) girl. The female friends I have will throw those said empty gestures, and Chad will vaguely reissue the housing offer. Darren will say something cryptic about how it's not a convenience or habit to know me, and Sarah will be mad that I left her out entirely. Meanwhile, I've risked all this to get this off my chest, and I still don't have the notion that I give a shit about this assignment tomorrow.
I shot an arrow into the air, and I'm still waiting to see where it falls. Wherever it does, I just don't know that I can apologize for it. Not anymore.