Maybe it is a poor self image thing. Maybe some good girls think that they are not worthy of a good man?
Maybe inside every good girl there is a bad girl itching to get out?
Maybe good girls like a challenge. They think that if they can get a bad boy to act like a good boy then they must really be something special.
I really don’t know the answer to this, but somehow I am beginning to think I am one (if not all) of these girls above.
I know that there are good guys out there. I’ve even been lucky enough to date a couple, but for some reason I always toss them back. Why? Why are the nice guys just not capable of holding my attention? Note to Self: Consider seeking extended therapy on this subject.
I can honestly say that every guy I’ve been with has a good heart. However, somehow all the ones I’ve gotten serious with are horrible, terrible, absolutely lousy partners.
I have tried really, really hard to give Untouchable all the breaks a girl possibly can, because I understood that he was going through a rough time with his divorce. I’ve even neglected to mention some of his more serious character flaws in hopes that they were just a result of his bad situation. Unfortunately this is sure evidence that I am hopeless, horribly, and absolutely terribly naïve.
The first time I backed off from my relationship with Untouchable, he was dropping the ball big time. When I blogged about it, I said I could just tell he “needed to focus on other things.” (That was code for the boy was dropping the ball big time. Now you know Lil Dreamer Code. I wouldn‘t add it to your resume or anything, but it is a great skill to possess.)
We had plans for seven one night and he strolled in around 8:30, no phone call. Alright, I’m not a Nazi or anything. Maybe he had a really good excuse, right?
So I asked him why he was late. You know what he said?? “My dog really needed some attention.” I kid you not. Sparrow was there at the time and I thought she was going to bitch slap him into next Tuesday.
I mean, I show up in this guy’s kitchen wearing nothing but a trench coat and give him a lap dance when he’s feeling sad and he puts me second to his dog??? And he forgets Valentine’s Day all in the same week? Not cool. Not even close to cool. Not even in the same galaxy as cool.
So I backed off. I can take a hint. However when I backed off, that’s when he started upping his game. He professed his undying love for me and told me there was no getting over me. He washed three day old crusted puke from my hair for Jiminy’s Sake! He even made a proposal of holy matrimony at one point. Note to Self: Guys are likely to do anything to maintain access to Harry Potter Pussy. (Reference credit for that spectacular naughty bits term goes out to Pickelope.)
Then as soon as I’m securely back in his arms, he’s back to treating me like dog food. Incidentally, this is exactly what Minute Man used to do. He didn’t care if I told him I was upset about something. I could shout, cry, stamp my feet, spin on my head, it didn’t matter. He would just look at me with about as much interest as if he were looking at a late night infomercial.
|Yes! This is exactly the look. I would recognize it anywhere!||Link|
However as soon as I threw in the towel, it was all sunshine and rainbows from Mr. Charming.
A couple weeks ago Untouchable told me that he had Saturday off and that we should “do something fun.” Some of my friends had called and wanted to do something fun too, but I told them I had plans - because I thought I did.
When Saturday rolled around, I called Untouchable and asked him if he wanted to go out for breakfast with me and his mom. He hemmed and hawed and told me he was really busy. So I gently reminded him that he had told me that he wanted to do something fun and then he agreed to meet me for breakfast. He even said we could go to an estate sale afterwards. Great! That sounded like fun!
You know what wasn’t fun? Eating breakfast alone with his mother without so much as a phone call from him. That wasn’t fun for me.
After not hearing anything from him for a few hours, I called him but got no answer. I sent him a text message. “I wish you had told me that you weren’t coming to breakfast. It is really important for me to feel like I can count on you, and today I wasn’t feeling that.” I thought that was a super mild way of saying: You dropped the ball again freakish dog lover.
I heard no reply from him – for two weeks. Two weeks!!! No reply.
Then finally he apologized. He said he didn’t call because he thought I was mad at him. Yeah, like that was going to make it better. I once again felt sorry for him because he is so painfully clueless. Seriously, if you are this stupid I will genuinely feel sorry for you. I decided I would attempt to teach him the components of a functioning relationship. Yeah! Because that sounds like fun!
Naturally, I went out and bought some knee high socks, a very short plaid skirt, and a too tight white blouse, to demonstrate to him good schoolmanship. (Pretty sure that’s not a word, but I really think it ought to be.)
He showed up at my work in his hot little red sports car to take me for a ride. However, if he bothered to know my work schedule he would have known I was at home waiting to take him for a ride. Eventually, he showed up at my place in this:
|What? So I got a thing for young guys that drive old cars, so what? That's hot.|
Sporting a perky set of pigtails, I bent over to show him even I could be a bad student and forget things sometimes (like my underwear).
|This is my attempt at hot, but I'm pretty sure the camera in the mirror self-shot negates anything cool I might have had going for me in this particular photo - but the outfit was too good to leave this out.|
Forty-five minutes later I was pulling clothing out of the drapes wearing nothing but my converse all stars and the knee-high sport socks. Seriously, I’m not kidding you when I tell you I made that boy feel like he hit the Girlfriend Lottery.
Man, when things are good, things are good between us!!
But then next Saturday rolled around. Once again we had plans for to go to the movies, and once again, I found myself sitting home on a Saturday night with my cat.
He didn’t answer any of my texts or calls from Saturday night until the following morning when I received this little gem in my text messages: “I fell asleep. Please don’t shoot me.”
Seriously? He could only hope that’s all I was going to do.
It occurred to me that this is exactly what Untouchable did to me when I was in my twenties and I sure as hell wasn’t going to go through it again in my thirties. No one puts baby in the corner!
Since day one, I have shown this boy nothing but patience, love and compassion - and he’s only capable of showing me the same when he thinks he’s going to lose me.
Oh how that same old song and dance I used to get from Minute Man just makes me want to throw my hands up in the air and run screaming!!! And so help my God, that’s exactly what I’ve done.