I’m That Girl Who Turns Guys Into Assholes

You’ve got the softest touch and when you look at me, I can see love overflowing out of your beautiful, kind eyes. You’re everything and so much more I wanted in a guy, you listen to me ramble nonsensical lyrics while I trash your room with ash everywhere. You pick up my call in the middle of the night with gusto even when I repeat the conversation I’ve had with my best friend for the 354678 time. You never once interrupt me or try to hang up. You listen because I am an insomniac and I have nothing at night to do, except making sure people around me are awake too.

You are everything I ever wanted in a guy, if only I was looking for one. If only my heart was mine to give anymore. If only you were my first boyfriend, I would have made you my last.

You pay for all the dates and hold doors open for me. You even pulled a chair out for me in McD’s and I wish with all my heart that I could love you, but I can’t. When I am with you and you look into my eyes, I don’t see you. I see a version of me that you see and it strokes my vanity. I flatter myself by toying with the amazing person that you are. When you hold the door out for me, I don’t start to believe that chivalry is still alive. I don’t upgrade my thinking of men. I just walk in and tell myself I am worth a guy like this.

It’s wrong I guess, but I am like spilled beans on the ground trying to hold myself up, trying to gather my pieces. Trying to sort my shit out. When you keep your arms around me while we watch Star Wars, I don’t dwell on your warmth or take comfort in your presence. I watch the damn movie and feel a piece of weight lying on me. That’s it.

My brain should shoot my heart heavy bullets but instead I am numb inside. You can’t break an already broken heart. I don’t feel guilty while I nod as you tell me you want to marry me and have a daughter with a nose exactly like mine. I hate my nose and I never plan to get married but I don’t tell you that, because I am busy thinking of him and how I deserved to hear all this piece of crap from him.

When you hold my hand as we cross the road and you push me on the other side so the car hits you first, I don’t see pretty pink hearts clouding my sight. I feel like I have earned this, even when I haven’t.

I don’t feel remorse leading you on, I just feel less bored.

I don’t mean it when I tell you “I love you.” It’s not even in me to love anyone right now.

I feel like my heart has been ripped apart from my chest and somehow I am relying on you to give it back. The irony is that you don’t even know what it feels like to hold my heart in your palm. He knew, a long while ago he held it there and right now it’s scattered somewhere in the love songs he sang to me, the letters he wrote for me, the cupcakes he bought for me. It’s scattered all around his dorm room and patio and ceiling and windows and chocolate wrappers in his dustbin. Every scrap is his. Every piece is his. Every relic is his.

Even when I am in your arms, I am his.

But I won’t tell you that, because if you leave I’ll just miss him more than I do when I’m with you. So I smile at the ice cream you buy for me in your car as you take me for a long drive. I am not even into the pretty roads and lust bushes all around us, I just think of him.

I try to look at you and see only you but instead all I see is eyes that I wish were like his. I don’t do this deliberately and I really really like you, but that’s all I’ll ever do.

The reserve for love is jammed up and you and your overflowing love can’t make it move even an inch. Like I said, you are everything I ever wanted in a guy when I was looking for one, but right now all I am looking for is him and you are not him and so I don’t want you.

I want him. I just want to want you.

I wish I could say I might start loving you sometime but, you see, I have a thing for assholes. I only fall for guys who stomp on my heart and tear it into tiny little pieces and make my life a living hell. And I rebound with nice, adorable, genuinely honest guys like you.

I’ve done this before and I’ll do it again.

I wish I was a better person sometimes, so I wasn’t turning nice guys extinct, so I wasn’t responsible for karma biting me in the ass but it is just beyond my control. I just can’t love someone who loves me and be content with it. I guess that just makes me a girl you should stay away from. I wish it meant we have a future together and that I want a son exactly like you, which by the way I do, just with a different father.

I wish I could tell you that you’re the man for me and mean it, so I can see your cheeks turn pink and a gentle smile kiss your lips but I can’t. I mean, I can say it, but the meaning it part is the bitch here. Plus, when you’ll inevitably smile I’ll only think of him.

So I guess, you’ve been my boy toy for far too long now and it’s time to set you free. It sucks though; because next time you date a girl, you’ll be a bitch to her and my only regret will be that it isn’t be me.