And She Will Be Loved
"And she will be loved," Maroon 5 sang, but they never talked about the guy because, you see, in fairy tale land, the girl always gets found by her prince charming; it's just that prince charming says in reality, "Well, I'm fucking glad the princess is hot-as-fuck because I didn't have a choice anyway."
And so she will be loved, but since I'm no prince charming, the love doesn't come from me. With my steed as a car, my attire as a hoodie and baggy pants, and my intelligence accounting for practically nothing, I sit unable to move watching as the next guy comes and cleans up the mess I made.
It's like I was put here for that exact reason. I somehow make things absolutely terrible for girls so that eventually they can find who they were supposed to be with. Ladies and gentlemen, it's a lot easier than it looks. Come on too strong, leave too quickly, say the wrong shit and voila, you have yourself another broken-hearted female, another smarter woman, who made the best decision to leave you and find someone better. Like I said fellas, it's an easy job. All you gotta do is follow the steps I mentioned.
What happens though, if I decide that I don't want to live this life anymore? What happens when I want to throw in the towel and say, "Hey, I want to be the guy at the end." I've given it some thought, and I've come to the conclusion that I need somebody just like me, to fuck up a situation so that I can fix it. How sad is that? How low of a self-esteem do you have, Nikko? How much confidence do you need to lack to say that to be happy, you gotta break something intentionally so that you can fix it.
Even through all of this, I still believe I can find it. I believe love exists, maybe not for everybody, but I honestly feel like it exists for me. Is this journey necessary though? Do I need another two years? The past two were rough enough, and I'd be damned to hear if this is only the halfway point. And what if it isn't even halfway yet? How much more do I have in me? I feel as though I've already been running on empty and the next gas station is thousands of miles away.
But I keep trucking. I keep moving. I keep pushing myself to hope because I know one of these days she's going to walk into a room and I'm not even going to notice it, but THAT girl is the one I'll spend the rest of my life with. THAT girl is the one who'll put up with my shit, my insecurities, my pain, my sadness, my everything, and in turn, I'll do the exact same thing for her. All you AFC's out there know exactly what I'm talking about because we're all just Average Frustrated Chumps, who let the girl leave with the more attractive guy because we know we just couldn't keep up. And when she gets sick of it; when she gets sick of the partying, getting hit on, getting fucked then tossed aside, getting cheated on, getting left behind, and finally realizes that she's done with it all, where am I gonna be?
That's right, you said it. I won't be there.
So maybe, after all is said and done, she won't be loved after all.
And so she will be loved, but since I'm no prince charming, the love doesn't come from me. With my steed as a car, my attire as a hoodie and baggy pants, and my intelligence accounting for practically nothing, I sit unable to move watching as the next guy comes and cleans up the mess I made.
It's like I was put here for that exact reason. I somehow make things absolutely terrible for girls so that eventually they can find who they were supposed to be with. Ladies and gentlemen, it's a lot easier than it looks. Come on too strong, leave too quickly, say the wrong shit and voila, you have yourself another broken-hearted female, another smarter woman, who made the best decision to leave you and find someone better. Like I said fellas, it's an easy job. All you gotta do is follow the steps I mentioned.
What happens though, if I decide that I don't want to live this life anymore? What happens when I want to throw in the towel and say, "Hey, I want to be the guy at the end." I've given it some thought, and I've come to the conclusion that I need somebody just like me, to fuck up a situation so that I can fix it. How sad is that? How low of a self-esteem do you have, Nikko? How much confidence do you need to lack to say that to be happy, you gotta break something intentionally so that you can fix it.
Even through all of this, I still believe I can find it. I believe love exists, maybe not for everybody, but I honestly feel like it exists for me. Is this journey necessary though? Do I need another two years? The past two were rough enough, and I'd be damned to hear if this is only the halfway point. And what if it isn't even halfway yet? How much more do I have in me? I feel as though I've already been running on empty and the next gas station is thousands of miles away.
But I keep trucking. I keep moving. I keep pushing myself to hope because I know one of these days she's going to walk into a room and I'm not even going to notice it, but THAT girl is the one I'll spend the rest of my life with. THAT girl is the one who'll put up with my shit, my insecurities, my pain, my sadness, my everything, and in turn, I'll do the exact same thing for her. All you AFC's out there know exactly what I'm talking about because we're all just Average Frustrated Chumps, who let the girl leave with the more attractive guy because we know we just couldn't keep up. And when she gets sick of it; when she gets sick of the partying, getting hit on, getting fucked then tossed aside, getting cheated on, getting left behind, and finally realizes that she's done with it all, where am I gonna be?
That's right, you said it. I won't be there.
So maybe, after all is said and done, she won't be loved after all.