So you want to know why we always go for the bad boys? Pull up a seat, and I’ll tell you all about it.
I can’t say I speak for every girl when I admit this, but I choose boys that are bad for me on a regular basis. Why? I know how it will end. I dated someone seriously for a long time, and I thought he was a good guy. Then some really awful things happened – things I never saw coming – and the hurt blindsided me. With the bad boy, I know he will hurt me, so I can prepare; the element of surprise is gone. It seems counter-intuitive, but as most boys will attest, girls don’t make a whole lot of sense. And truthfully, most times we don’t! But I digress.
Here’s the quick tale of how things shook out with Mr. Bad Boy.
I knew you were trouble when you walked in.
Okay, Sis is going to FREAK cuz she hates T-Swifty, but the chick had a point when it came to this Bad Boy. I knew he was trouble from the moment I met him – the fact that he had a rep was my first clue, that I so blatantly chose to ignore – but I proceeded onward anyways.
The way he walked into the party and strutted around, like he was too good for the place and everyone in it, turned me off. However, within minutes, he had me wrapped up in conversation, and I was in over my head before I even knew my feet hit the water.
After what felt like hours of fairly good drunken conversation, the inevitable happened. The “big move”. And holy shit – this was movie quality big move. This is how completely unaware I was – I had no idea he was even into me like that until he leaned forward, put his hands on my face, and kissed me mid-sentence in the middle of a full party. I couldn’t breathe, my head was swimming, and there was this odd tingling on my lips – what most people would equate to an electric spark. Holy Dear God, was it epic.
After a few weeks of the normal college hook-up routine, tip-toing back and forth between what’s not enough and what’s too much, I crossed the line. Go me. In a fit of drunken frustration, I decided to take “let’s make him jealous” to a whole other level. Granted, I was provoked – he unsuccessfully tried to get out of being caught smoking – something he knew I hated and told me he didn’t do ( if there’s one thing about me you must know, it’s that I have a quick temper when it comes to liars). So I acted like almost any blackout, scorned girl would.
Apparently, to spite him, “blackout” Suz decided making out with two different random guys at the party was a fabulous idea. I don’t remember either of them happening – thank God for friends, right?
This was the start of the spiral downward that ultimately led to the demise of the “bad boy boning days.” Shortly after my childish stunt, things tapered off pretty quickly, and for the better. There was no way that one was going to work out to be a steady sleeping partner. Too much drama, too much confusion, and not enough excitement to make the headache worth it.
Til next time, my fine single friends,
Suz
*Photos- Blogspot