I fell for a bleepboy, and this is how it honestly went.
You may be thinking “you actually fell for one of those douchebags?” Yes. Yes I did.
Every woman thinks they’ll be the one to change the guy they’re with. Who doesn’t love a challenge? Well, I’m a sucker for a challenge and a glutton for punishment so there I was—heartbroken, puffy-eyed, and feeling like an idiot when it didn’t go as planned.
It all started just how you’d imagine—boy meets girl, girl bats her eyelashes and they exchange phone numbers…yada yada yada.
Weeks of texting back and forth, lots of flirting, and umpteen empty promises later, I started to see his true colors bleed through. However, I did not want to see the obvious red flags coming around every corner. I thought I would be the exception to the rule.
He told me he had been hurt before (join the club buddy) and that he wasn’t in a place for a relationship, how original.
Just to give you an indication of just how much of an asshole this guy really was, he started swiping on Tinder while he was sitting next to me. I wish I was joking.
However, I didn’t want to hear my mom, my friends, or my sister tell me I deserved better than this loser. In my mind I already knew that I’d break down his walls and I would be the one to change him from a bleepboy to my prince charming. (Don’t we all?) I thought one night after our usual hook up, we’d talk for hours about our bruises and bumps from our childhood and what we think about on rainy days and how certain songs bring about nostalgia. But instead, as soon as he was through, he’d check his watch, claim it was “getting really late” and he’d scurry off with a pitiful kiss goodbye.
I was an obvious afterthought.
I must’ve fallen for him in the brief moments when he was sweet and seemingly attentive. When it was convenient for him, he was different. I remember one time, he asked why I liked him and I told him, big mistake. His ego did not need to be any larger than it already was. I told him I loved getting lost in his eyes. They were the kind of blue that reminded me of fresh berries your mom would bring you after playing at the park—making me feel giddy and alive, like a kid again. I explained to him that I could never stay mad at him because he had a way of making me laugh, despite my strongest efforts to stay upset with him—which was annoying but also kind of endearing.
He was enigmatic, free-spirited, and careless, but you see, that was the problem. He didn’t care about anything, most certainly not me.
His response to me pouring my heart out was “Awe, thanks!”
My heart broke on a December day in a Starbucks. Yuck, how cliché is that?
I had asked him countless times to tell me why he never really let me in and what I could possibly do to get a peek into his mind. It was driving me mad. After about an hour of him dodging my questions and dancing around the subject, he finally got tired of me asking. I heard seven little words that no one would ever want to hear. He looked right into my eyes and said, “I do not have feelings for you.” How is this even possible? Countless nights spent together, a million text messages, and breathless moments when there was literally nothing separating us besides a veil of lust. How on Earth can he look at me and feel nothing when I’m sitting here with my heart on my damn sleeve? The rest of the conversation (if you could even call it that) was a blur.
After an ocean of tears and mountains of confusion, I came to a humbling realization—
I am not the girl that was meant to change him, and that is okay.
Clearly, my life was destined for someone better, and I am more than happy to wait for a man who doesn’t need changing in the first place, because that’s the truth, isn’t it? The man of your dreams should have already done all his changing. You don’t want someone you have to “fix” because another girl broke him. If you learn nothing from my mistake, then at least take this with you…if Mr. Fuckboy tells you he doesn’t want a relationship, please listen to him. When you save a week of your life from a gallon of Cherry Garcia, a Friends marathon and a tear-soaked-pillow-case, you’ll be glad you listened.
This is not a movie, don’t be a man’s biggest fan when he can’t even show up to your game.
You deserve someone better, I promise.