Ode to the Nice Girls
Anna, thanks for the link.
I’ve read the tribute to the nice guys; this is my response.
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 don’t give it up on the first date, who don’t want to play mind games, who provide a comforting hug and a supportive audience for a story they’ve heard a thousand times. This is for the girls who understand that they aren’t perfect and that the guys they’re interested in aren’t 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 he’ll 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 don’t 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 fuck 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.
Reads a bit like “Howl . . .”
I think that one thing that gets a lot of us derailed is the whole consumerism aspect of modern life. It is suspiciously weird when you’re “shopping around” for someone to walk up to you with their heart on their sleeve and be real. At best, its too-good-to-be-true. “What’s the catch?” And, often enough, you’re not that interested, because you’ve gotten used to being attracted to people who are more screwy than this.
And I think that’s how we end up with “nice guys” and “nice girls” having such a hard time getting anywhere. Everyone’s after the bling . . .
I, on the other hand, for the time being, get to let go of my love and my anger, such that I can kind of observe from the sidelines and try not to get overly-fixated on this game. Ahhh, delicious abstraction! Hopefully I can keep my consciousness with me as I move along with life. Of course, life itself never gives you a “break” . . . we keep it interesting over here.
