This is my tribute to the nice girls. To the nice girls
who are overlooked, who become friends and nothing more, who spend hours fixating upon their looks and their personalities
and their actions because it must be they that are doing something wrong.
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 that the guys they're interested in aren't either, for the girls who flirt and laugh and worry and obsess over the slightest
glance, whisper, touch, because somehow they are able to keep alive that hope that maybe... maybe this time he'll have understood.
This is an 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 those girls who have been in the trenches, who
have watched other girls time and time again fake up and make up and fuck 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 trite 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, who are seeking
to find it.
This is for the girls who have never been in love, but know that it's an experience that they don't want
to miss out on. For the girls who have sought a night with friends and been greeted by a night of catcalling, rude comments
and explicit invitations that they'd rather not have experienced.
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 vomiting guy friend or a
comatose crush, who have received 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 after hint only to watch him chase after the first blonde girl in a skirt.
This is for the girls who have been told that 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 a whore than foster a relationship; this is for the girls who have been led on by words and kisses and
touches, all of which were either only true for the moment, or never 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 hearts 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 when 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 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 relationship: 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 you only comforted him just right, or 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 night you 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, you
seldom choose those which make you cry yourself to sleep.
This is for the hugs you've received 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 your 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 have ever wanted.
This is for the girls who have been satisified with too
little and who have learned never to expect anything more: for the girls who don't think that they deserve more, because they've
been conditioned for so long to accept the scraps thrown to them by guys.