I think there are two types of guys who can rock a girl’s world. First, there’s the Assholes of this world. They have the fucking power to make girls their "doormats" when, as far as justice is concerned, it's the faces of these guys that deserve a good stomping. Yes, I’m talking from experience.
You only get to see them once in a while; just on those days when it is more convenient for them than for you. They subtly let you work around their schedule. They show you a good time, sweep you off your feet, and promise to call but never do. When they do call, they often give you a vague explanation, if there’s even any. You put on your best shoes and go giddy as you both paint the town red only a few times, and yet you remember it for a lifetime. And when they feel that the wheels of your poor, hoping heart have shifted dramatically and you start to show the slightest indication of falling in love (or you emit some girlfriend vibes they begin to sense), they go cold turkey as you turn mother hen.
They treat you terribly. You wonder what went wrong. He gives you back-to-back rain checks while you start defending him to your friends. This could go on for months, yet you still want the *sshole. With all the things I have learned in the past years, I wonder what it is that makes them such nice girl magnets.
Is it because some women like the thrill of the chase as much as the chill of the case? Is it because some women unconsciously enjoy being treated like a doormat? Or is it because we want that sense of uncertainty...the rush that comes with living on the edge? We love to relive the magic that comes with affairs to remember—the cold nights, the red wine, and the deep, dark secrets whispered on nights that happened once but echoed for eternity.
These are the guys who can rock your world and your boat silly. They rock you once and leave you shaken, wanting to hit your head on a rock or down yourself with vodka on the rocks. And the sad part is that you never, ever learn until you have hit rock-bottom.
The second type of guy who can rock a girl’s world is the jackass—the nice guy with a hint of flair. Guys like this are the Ted Mosbys of this world. While some are not as creative and downright romantic as Ted Mosby of How I Met Your Mother, they are the ones who are constant: dense but constant, patient, and subtle. Despite the silent protests, they will try to do the requests of girls who fall on the Hot-Crazy Scale, as explained by Barney Stinson. At first, you might think that they’re doing it because they are too nice to complain, but in the process, they help you change for the better without you even knowing it.
There’s that sense of magic in how they seem to fit perfectly in your life, which makes everyone—including your family—connive to make you realize what a perfect couple you’d make. You love the excitement that comes with the fact that you don’t always know how in the world they were able to coax you into doing things you don’t normally do. They’re the kind you can introduce to your parents, knowing that your Mom would invite him again for dinner; the kind you can introduce to your friends, knowing he’d survive a round of drinking spree and not-so-subtle interrogation; and the kind who can screw your brains out in bed—a fact that you wouldn’t buy easily until you’ve had the first taste test.
This is the kind of guy who can not only rock your world but can shake you hard enough to rearrange your mindset.
Now, it’s up to you which one to choose to be insanely in love with—the Asshole or the Jackass. I have realized that love is, in fact, a decision. Remember what I wrote in before, when I questioned if it’s really love if you say goodbye without leaving, and decided that we have no control over who to love? I was so young back then, and so wrong. Falling in love at 23 seems so juvenile when I compare it to my present situation and point-of-view.
Now, I’m not saying that the relationships of young people are a joke, so spare me the false scrutiny. What I’m trying to say is, as you grow older, your perception of things changes. At 23, I thought that love was simply an emotion that you couldn’t define or control. But now, at 25, regardless of who you choose—whether you return to the Asshole who keeps hurting you or run to the one who will give you not just love but also the respect you deserve—love is still a decision to make. Even if you say you can’t control it, you always have a choice. It’s still your decision if you want to pursue something vague.
I’ve learned that love is a decision.
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