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 the guys that they're interested in aren't either, for the girls who flirt and laugh and worry and obsess over the slighest glance, whisper, touch, because somehow they are able to keep alive the hope that maybe, maybe this time he'll have understood. This is a 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 the girls who have been in the trenches and who have watched other girls time and time again fake up and make up and screw 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 rite 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, and who are seeking to find it.
This is for the girls who have never been in love but know that it's an experience they don't want to miss out on.
This is for the girls who have spent their weekends sitting on the sidelines of a beer pong tournament or a case race, or playing Florence Nightingale for a vomitting guy friend or a comatose crush; who have recieved a drunk phone call just before dawn from someone who doesn't care enough to invite them over but is still willing to pass out in their bed.
This is for the girls who have left sad song lyrics in their away messages, who have tried to make someone understand through a subliminally appealing profile, who have time and time again dropped their male friend hint after hint only to watch him chase after the first blonde girl he sees in a skirt.
This is for the girls who have been told they're too good or too smart or too pretty, who have been given compliments as a way of breaking off a relationship, who have ever been told they are only wanted as a friend.
This one's for the girls who you can take home to mom but won't because it's easier to sleep with someone than foster a realtionship. This is for the girls who have been led on by words or kisses or touches, all of which were either only true for the moment..or never even real to begin with.
This is for the girls who have allowed a guy into their head and heart and bed, only to discover that he's just not ready, he's just not over her, he's just not looking to be tied down; this is for the girls who believe the excuses because it's easier to believe that it's not that they don't want you, it's that they don't want anyone.
This is for the girls who have had their heart broken and their hopes dashed by someone too cavalier to have cared in the first place; this is for the nights spent dissecting every word and syllable and inflection in his speech, for the nights you've returned home alone, for the nights when you've seen from across the room him leaning a little too close, or standing a little too near, or talking a little too softly for the girl he's with to just be a random hookup.
This is for the girls who have endured party after party in his presence, finally having realized that it wasn't that he didn't want a realationship; it was that he didn't want you. I honor you for the night his dog died or his grandmother died or his little brother crashed his car and you held him, thinking that if only you conforted him right, said the right words, or rubbed his back in the right way then perhaps he'd realize what it was that he already had. This is for the nights you've realized that it would never happen, and the sunrise you saw the next morning after failing to sleep.
This is for the, "I really like you so let's still be friends" comment after you read more into a situation than he ever intended; this is for never realizing that when you choose friends in life, you seldom choose ones that make you cry yourself to sleep. This is for the hugs you've recieved from your female friends, for the nights they've reassured you that you are beautiful and intelligent and amazing and loyal and truly worthy of a great guy; this is for the despair you all felt as you sat in the aftermath of your tears, knowing that that night the only companionship you'd have was with a pillow and a teddy bear.
This is for the girls who have been used and abused, who have endured what he was giving because at least he was giving something; this is for the stupidity of the nights we've believed that something was better than nothing, though his something was nothing we'd ever truly wanted. This is for the girls who have been satisfied with too little and who have learned never to expect anything more: for the girls who don't think they deserve more because they've been conditioned for so long to accept the scraps thrown to them by guys.
See, this is what I don't understand: men sit and question and whine that girls are only attracted to the mean guys, they guys who berate them and belittle them and don't appreciate them and don't want them; who use them for sex and think of little else than where their next conquest will be made. Men complain that they never meet nice girls, girls who are genuinely interested and compelling, who are intelligent and sweet and beautiful and smart; men despair that no good women want to share in their lives..that girls play mindgames..that girls love to keep them hanging. Yet men I ask you this: were you to meet one of these genuinely interesed, thrilling, compelling, intelligent and beautiful and sweet and caring girls, were you to give her your number and wait for her to call...and if you were to recieve a phone call from her the next day, and in her truthful, loyal, intelligent and straight-forward nice girl fashion, were to tell you that she finds you intruiging and attractive and interesting and worth her time and perhaps material for which she could see you being her boyfriend, would you or would you not immediately call your friends to tell them about the "stalker chick" you met the night prior, who called you and wore her heart on her sleeve and told you the truth? And would you or would you not then refuse to make plans with her, see her again because you've built up your ego to your friends..but then once again return to the bar or party scene and search once more for this "nice girl" who you just cannot seem to find? Because therein lies the truth, guys: we nice girls are everywhere. But you're not really looking for a nice girl. You're not looking for someone genuinelly interested in your intramural basketball game, or your anatomy midterm grade, or that argument you keep having with your father; youre looking for a quick fix, a night when you can pretend to have a connection with another human being which is just as disposable as the condom you were using during it.
So don't say you're on the lookout for nice girls, guys, when you pass us up on every step you take. Sometimes we go undercover, sometimes we go in disguise: sometimes when that girl in the lowcut shirt or the too-tight miniskirt won't answer your woes, sometimes you're looking at a nice girl in suggestive clothing - we might say we like the attention, we might blush and giggle and turn back to our friends but we're all thinking the same thing: "This isn't me. Tomorrow morning I'll be back in a teeshirt and flannel pants..I'll have slept alone and I'll be making my hungover best friend breakfast. See through the disguise. See me." You never do. Why? Because you only see the exterior, you only see the easy girl who welcomes those advances. You don't want the nice girl, so don't say you're looking for a relationship because relationships take time and energy and intent: 3 things you're willing to extend but in return we're looking for compassion and loyalty and trust, 3 things you never seem willing to express. Maybe nice guys finish last, but in the race they're running they're chasing after easy-targets..the nice girls are waiting at the finish line with a towel and a water bottle and a hug, hoping againt all odds that maybe you'll realize that they're the ones you want at the end of that silly race.
So maybe it won't last forever. Maybe some of those guys in that race will turn in their running shoes and make their way to the concession stand where we're waiting.. however, until that happens, we still have eachother, that silly race to watch, and all the chocolate we can eat. (Because what's a concession stand at a race without some chocolate, anyway?)
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