We've all heard the saying "Nice guys finish last". Based on my own personal experience, I've found this to be unfortunately true. I myself have, on more than one occasion, turned down the charming sweetheart for the mysterious badass. (If you have an experience where you happily picked the nice guy, or you were the nice guy who got lucky, I'd love to hear about it because I have heard of no such instances.)

Anyways, us girls avoid the 'nice guys' for whatever reason-maybe we know there's no challenge, and we want a chase. Maybe we're just not up for something that we know will be sincere, and want to fool around. Maybe we're just whole and want to be broken down by someone we know will hurt us, and then later in life find the 'nice guy' to put us back together.

Teenage girls mostly find the nice guys to be boring for their rambunctious partying years, I guess. So I'm wondering if the same applies to the 'nice girl'.

Guys, if you found a beautiful young girl who was sweet, thoughtful, and a virgin to top it off, would you go for it? If you were with a girl who did everything seemingly right-occasional spontaneous cookie-baking, sweet letters and presents on special days, never got into petty fights of posession or anything trivial-would you get bored? Your buds would tell you you scored a good one when you recieved random favors, and you never have anything to complain about to them. Do you appreciate what you have in front of you, or do you start looking elsewhere for someone maybe more....intriguing? Someone who will put a slight twist in your life?

Is it just the girls who can't stand to have someone 'perfect', or do the guys shy way from a good thing too, and leave the nice girls trailing behind with the nice guys?

He's a chaotic creature, but I want nothing more than to jump into the terrible, thrashing tornado that is his life. As I chase the storm, I hear the foul words of wisdom telling me to turn around. So many crooked bodies, crushed on the rocks that line this path of destruction, all reaching and telling me not to fall where they fell...not to fall for him. I listen, but pick up my pace as my long legs carry me over the countless hurting humans trying, with the best intentions, to turn me around. But nothing can stop me now.

I had been to the bottom of the darkest hole, and climbed out into the world of humanity and normality, thinking that was where I wanted to be. But the simplicity stunted my emotional capacity, and instead I found myself more alone than in that darkness. I was alone in a crowded room, when his breeze blew by my door and drew me out. I saw those heavy clouds and saw an escape from the monotony and mundane that my life had become. So I threw caution to the wind, tied my shoes tight and now I'm on the run. And nothing can stop me now.

So many faces pass under my feet as I run, and I let my mind meander over the mistakes that might've put them there. Maybe they were weak, and the whirlwind whipped them around and out. With every victim left behind, the storm only increased in violence. I believe I'm stronger than them all, I believe that nobody could tame this tempest like I want to. I reached high ground and made my leap straight in. Nothing can stop me now. 

I was immediately caught in the ferocity of this natural disaster, but I hold strong. I've been whipped and slashed, I am bruised and gashed. There may be a little masochism that makes holding on easier, but I was going to be the one thing that wouldn't fall out of this cyclone to crash and burn. He needed someone who could take his trauma and abuse, and I knew I could. I was holding on, diving deeper. I was on my way towards the eye of the tornado, the calm...the heart. And you can bet nothing can stop me now.

You asked me once: "What is your heart telling you now?"

I had told you I lived head over heart, and when it comes down to things like 'love' or relationships, or even anything, I ignored my heart. So when you asked me that question, I couldn't really answer. With the habit of ignoring that voice firmly beaten into my being, how was I supposed to understand what it was saying now? But, whether you knew it or not, I did take the lock off of my heart for you, if only through my own curiosity and desire to answer your question for myself.

The answer was like a reality check for me-I had thought myself an iron woman ready to stand through any storm, driven in my ambitious direction; but that was indeed only who I was with my heart behind bars. Instead I found I was a delicate young lady, holding nothing back as she floods the world with all of her emotional range that spans galaxies. My heart was bigger than the cage I'd been holding it in, and opening it up seemed to set it loose, and I began to feel it all. I felt it all for you-the one who made me want to open my heart and listen to it.

Time passed with that door open, and I felt every word you said, and I felt every mintue of silence. I felt as if you had given wings that could break through this worldly atmosphere; and I felt as if you had wrapped cold, rigid fingers around my heart, twisting and pulling painfully. I felt every gaze on you, every sweet word from another toward you, longing even more to trap you in my arms and claim you as mine and fiercely fight off all who sought to challenge that. I felt heaven in the words you spoke to me, and I felt hell in every glance I made toward you only to see your back. I felt as if, no matter what, I had to be the one you spoke honestly to, the one to keep you warm. I confessed my closeness to you in simple words I wished I could've expressed even more simply, physically; hand in hand, lip to lip, heartbeat to heartbeat.

However, I also felt every word spoken against you to me by those who have every reason to know you better than I. Every voice telling me no, initiating a brutal battle between hope and whatever horrible truth may be behind you-day and night, driving me insane. Of course, you silly girl. My head had to interject, never allowing my heart free reign. Of course no boy would be satisfied with just you; they always want more. Of course no boy could understand your heart, of course no boy could match these feelings you've set free. The hope my heart had defending the front lines is slowly being squashed. You remember what Daddy told you, don't you, little one? Men are scum. How many times did he make you repeat this, even as you were a little girl too young to even imagine a kiss? Men are scum. Men are scum. Men are scum. Did Daddy not illustrate this perfectly enough the day he slammed that door on us all? My heart protests and says this is different, that I'm different. And what makes you think that, sweetheart? ...

Just like that my heart is silenced, and slowly withdraws back to its cage in defeat. Now, this is why we keep it here, you see? My head explains softly. All those feelings, all that pain and confusion, why put up with that? What's the point? This is why I'm here. With a gentle, sympathetic touch on my shoulder, the key is turned in the lock once more.

You asked me once: "What is your heart telling you now?"

I don't want to know anymore.

~~~

I have issues??