I had a type once,
Beyond the standard checklist of
Bright eyes, kind smile,
Must tell jokes. No,
My type was far simpler:
Only douchebag nice guys need apply.
And indeed, only they did.
I used to spend hours lamenting,
Pondering, questioning “why?” I
Always came 2nd or even 3rd to
Their family, their boys, their plans.
How easy it was for them to cancel
At the last minute, when they simply
“Weren’t feeling it”.
These douchebag nice guys who took my
Shy smiles and unfailing there-ness,
Replacing my confidence with yearning,
Broke me down into a writhing, mewling mess
Of incomprehensible ultimatums
In which, I was always falling short,
Never chased after.
They were well-rounded and
Well-acquainted with self-love, mirror reflections
Of ardent promises broken
“Because I don’t really want to”.
One of my favourite lessons yet.
Funny, isn’t it, how self-respect takes
Precedence over these “douchebag nice guys”.