How else can anyone say it? Like we did sitting around the table tonight, you can sit around and debate it for hours, but you’ll never come to any conclusion but that.
“Nice guys always finish last.”
Guys have been saying it for years. Girls switch it around for themselves. Supposedly, if you’re nice, you finish last. But what does that mean? Please tell me, which ones are the nice guys? And are they finishing with nice girls? Or who are they finishing with? They say, “He who laughs last laughs best.” Does that apply to relationships as well? Does he who finishes last finish best? And what the hell is he finishing?!?
“All the nice girls go for ass holes.”
Guys’ answer to why they finish last. To this, I can only say, “POINT OUT THE ASS HOLES BEFOREHAND, AND I PROMISE NOT TO GO FOR THEM!!!” I’ve never wanted an ass hole. I’ve never purposely dated an ass hole. I’ve only ever looked for that ‘nice guy’ who’s supposedly out there somewhere. The guys who say they are the nice ones always end up breaking your heart, and the ones who are always the sweetest and most considerate to you are either just trying to get you in bed (i.e. an ass hole in hiding) or they’re others’ boyfriends. No, I’ve never wanted to be with a guy who was an ass hole—-but I’ve dated quite a few.
It’s all so ridiculous on each side. From every point of view, from each and every angle, it’s a wonder why—-or how-—any of us ever date at all. Every person thinks s/he is a nice guy/girl in some way and deserves to find that other person. Every person, when in dire straits, complains that s/he is nice and will always finish last. But what the hell does that mean? Is anyone ever finishing at all?
Even once you’re involved with someone, where do you get to sit back and say that it’s going to work, that you can fully trust the other person, that you know the intricacies of their mind so well that they could never turn out to be something other than what you see them as? How do you know that one day s/he won’t just change so much that there’s no way for you to stay together? When do you get that guarantee that lets you "finish?"
And forget finishing-—what about beginning? The great dating debate. Guys claim they can’t ask girls out unless they ask them on a REAL date, as if, for some reason, only one type of date can be considered acceptable for a woman to attend.
“As a guy, you can’t take girls on real dates until you’re in the real world.”
Excuse me, but where exactly do I sign up to be guaranteed some kind of proper lifestyle and extra money for the REAL WORLD? Most people I know don’t have that. And why does a date have to cost more than five or ten dollars? Why can’t guys just be creative rather than trying to be fiscally impressive?
“Well, girls aren’t impressed and can even be offended if you don’t take them to a nice dinner and the theater…”
Yes, that’s all nice—-AND TRITE AS HELL. Of course, I enjoy that, too, but you could get a couple sandwiches (or even just the stuff to make our own) and a cheap bottle of wine or two and take me and a blanket to the beach (or even just the levee), and I’ll be ten times more impressed—-even if you don’t know what I like in a sandwich and I end up only eating bread!
I guess my point in all this is that it’s impossible nowadays to live-—and date—-by stereotypes, and everybody bitches about them, yet everyone’s still following them! How in the world is anyone supposed to get into a relationship that actually means something? Are we supposed to sit around and wait for it to just fall into our laps? Or maybe fill the meantime with one-night stands? Can you be a nice guy/girl and have one-night stands with other nice guys/girls or even ass holes without becoming or being an ass hole yourself? It’s no wonder random sex is so prevalent in today’s society. With all of these things looming over you to scare you away from relationships, it’s obvious why everyone knows the words to “Why don’t we get drunk and screw?” It seems that people are more willing to take a chance on STD's than on getting involved with someone. If that's chosing the lesser of two evils, I'm afraid of what we're progressing toward.
Why do we even bother to label? If you don’t sleep around, you’re a prude. If you do, you’re a slut. For a guy, if you don’t, you’re a loser; if you do, you’re the man. A guy wants a girl who’s experienced, yet if she’s too experienced, she’s dirty. If you’re not sexually aggressive and creative enough, you’re boring, but if you’re too forward, you’re scary. What’s the point? Why does everything have to be read into and overanalyzed until the person you’re with is entirely unacceptable? What is it about us that forces us to find the bad? Or to think that when someone does something wrong once, by fluke, it’s some kind of sick pattern that makes them inherently bad? People can’t make mistakes. Once you do, you’re branded. And once you’re branded, you’ll never be the same.
Everyone says they don’t talk, yet the grapevine is the fastest information source on the planet. If you’re seen with a guy, you’re obviously sleeping together. If you hang out, you must be seeing each other. Then when you’re seen talking to someone else, you’re a cheater. What the hell is up with all of that? No one claims to like it, yet everyone just keeps on doing it. As if it’s not difficult enough to try to work on a relationship, everyone else wants to get involved and always knows more about your business than you possibly could. This usually ends up in misinterpreted or badly relayed and distorted information that tears apart a relationship, all because someone else thought they saw something or heard something and just had to speak up.
So where does that leave all of us? Scarred, hardened, and paranoid are the usual results. Today’s dating style often ends up to be a lose-lose situation. You find someone you think is just perfect, you go on for a while—-which could be short or long-—and then the dream ends tragically. So, you pull yourself together, you lick your wounds, and you try to move on, but each one leaves a scar to remind you to be more careful the next time.
We fear commitment, yet we crave finding the right one. We fear falling in love, but we want it desperately. We fear being alone, yet we don’t know how to let people in.
How we change the system, I don’t know, but I know this: even when I’m enjoying “singledom,” when I have the chance to be alone, I’m pursued by a nagging restlessness that the games may never end. Unless we stop getting stuck on our silly hang-ups, playing mind games, and overanalyzing everything the opposite sex does, we may always find ourselves stuck in a limbo where love eludes us. In the end, though, this nice girl is always going to want a nice guy...
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