You had your chance on our first (and only) date. I held the door open for you and bought you dinner at that 5-star restaurant you so slyly worked into the conversation. You looked amazing and I went all out to impress you. You walked through the door I held open for you without a thank you or really any acknowledgement of my little gesture.
I asked you about your hopes and dreams and listened to you bitch about your ex-boyfriend as you ordered that $100 bone-in ribeye and the wine with the fancy vintage you just had to try. You finished the wine but took most of the steak home in a doggy bag. I only now realize that it was the ex-boyfriend you were texting all evening, I hope he enjoyed the steak I bought him. By the way that “emergency call” you got after dinner didn’t fool anyone. I’m not stupid, unlike most of the guys you’ve dated.
I was wonderful to you, I was a gentleman. I treated you with respect, like a lady deserves to be treated. I enjoyed your company and you had my full attention. I didn’t expect anything in return except a chance to win your heart. I’m stable, I’m a good provider, I want marriage and kids in my future. I’m the man of your dreams, but you couldn’t see that. Or maybe you just didn’t care. You were pretty preoccupied with your texting.
But now you’re ready to date me? Really? You’ll excuse me if I’m not jumping for joy. You’ve dissed me, rejected me, took advantage of me, dodged my goodnight kiss and couldn’t wait to get away from me. Now suddenly you want me? Sorry, I’m not buying it.
I get it though, now that you’re on the downside of 30, the wrinkles are starting, the body is sagging and you have stretch marks and that c-section scar from pushing out that bad boy’s rugrat. I know it was impossible to see that that deadbeat irresponsible jerk was actually a deadbeat irresponsible jerk, but that’s not my problem. While you were waiting for those texts that never came I was busy getting my career in order and maximizing my credit score. Now my biggest issue is deciding which color Audi I’m going to buy. Why in the world would I choose to take on you and your problems?
In your twenties you barely gave me the time of day. Meanwhile you were jumping in bed with any guy with a neck tattoo or a prison record. Why would I date you? I know where you’ve been, and I hope you’ve been tested. From the trail of bad boys and the mistreatment you tolerated, no, invited into your life and seeing all the drama you created for yourself, I can only conclude that you don’t need a nice guy, you need therapy! I’m a simple guy and like my life uncomplicated. You are the human embodiment of drama and chaos, I’d have to be crazier than, well… YOU to take on your baggage.
Face it, you’d get sick of me and my nice guy ways. I’ll remember your birthday and our anniversary and I’ll buy you flowers on both. I’ll treat you with respect and you’ll get bored. I know damn well you’re going to end up cheating on me, and I don’t plan on giving you half my stuff when you do. I work hard for what I have and now that I’ve achieved a little success I would love someone to share my life with. But that’s not going to be you. You thought I wasn’t worthy of you back then and I feel you’re not worthy of me now.
Now that the bad boys have used you up and moved on to women 10 years younger, so have I. It’s a funny thing, now that I’ve achieved a little success, drive a nice car and have stability in my life, I’m getting attention from those girls too. I don’t need you anymore. I’m not in the mood to deal with you, your issues, or your ex and his issues. I’m not looking to help you raise the mini-me version of some guy you used to bang. I want my own children someday, not the offspring of Mr. Neck Tattoo.
Truth is though, I’m happy for you. I really am. It’s about time you matured and came to your senses about the thugs and losers you just couldn’t resist. But I wasn’t sitting by the phone waiting for you to realize I’m a great guy. I wrote you off long ago. You’ve learned some important lessons and so have I. In fact you taught me one, you taught me not to date girls like you.
Speaking for the nice guys out there, you’re too late.
We want a good girl not some bad boy’s leftovers. And the fact that you’re still out there dating tells me the bad boys don’t want you either. Enjoy dressing your cat up for Halloween and cherish your bad boy memories, I hope they keep you warm at night. I’m just not that into you anymore.