Nice Girls Finish Last
“I’ve been considering … that I’m too considerate.”
I read that on the homie Ricc’s Facebook status a few weeks ago, and I couldn’t agree with it more. One major difference with the Abi in a relationship now and the Abi in a relationship then, is I’m a lot more … well … in layman’s terms, CHILL.
You guys are probably thinking, “Damn, if this crazy bitch thinks she’s chill now, I can only imagine how loony-toons she used to be.” But I swear the three people that used to take residency in my head have since fled the country, leaving only two left. Hey, I never said I was sane, I said I was chill.
It’s a little ridiculous though. Sometimes I catch myself during these acts of rationalizing (which was once a foreign concept to me btw. rationalizing, what’s that?) and ask myself, “WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU??!!” Then that calm Mother Theresa like voice in my head replies, “A woman who has learned from her mistakes,” and all is well in the world and I find my equilibrium once again.
Because I am no longer the Abi that kicks in dashboards and flings open passenger side doors while the car is still in motion ‘cuz I can’t stand another second of your insecure ass in my space. I am no longer the Abi that mutters, “You ain’t shit,” under her breath while walking past you in front of a club you were at that I “just so happened” to end up at as well. And I am no longer the Abi that hastily gives you textual tongue lashings because things get lost in context and you’re too coward to pick up the fucking phone! *woo-sah*
Now, I may clench my fist … but I don’t cast any stones. I think about chuckin my stiletto point blank at your face, but instead I put on my shoes and leave. Now, the Smorgasbord of emotions I feel combined with being partially jaded has enabled me from yelling, and screaming, and throwing things. If anything, it all comes out in tears. Even then, it’s a rarity compared to the splash zones I created just a year ago.
And when I found out the last guy was really at a baseball game with his ex-girlfriend instead of at a family reunion in Colorado, it took every inch of my being to backspace the long-winded texts I had written out, put the phone down, and wait five whole days to marinate on my feelings, and confront him in person. Don’t worry, no ex’s were harmed in the making of that drama either. It actually went very good, I wouldn’t have changed anything and I’m currently patting myself on the back as I type.
So one would think that this whole Zen Abi is a good thing, but quite frankly, I’m getting tired of it. I am currently putting up a Craigslist ad to fill the three vacancies my old tenants left behind in my brain. Because this whole “nice” business is turning out to be more of a curse than a blessing. More and more, am I starting to believe that as much as men seem to think girls only go for assholes, guys gravitate towards the bitches. As much as men say they hate drama – they love the crazy! What else would keep a man in a relationship for seven “unhappy” years? We all know that if you really want to leave – you will leave.
But the worst part of it all, is that “niceness” continues to be misinterpreted for weakness. That me looking at all aspects of a circumstance means I’m being a pushover. Or that looking at the good in you automatically gives you a license to treat me bad. When all it is, is me being grown, eliminating regret in my life, and quite frankly saying, “You/It ain’t worth it,” without slapping you so hard your ears ring.
So trust me when I say to never, mistake my kindness for weakness. Or anything else than what it is. Because those five days I waited to respond to Mr. Triflin were TOUGH. It would’ve been sooo much easier to leave an expletive ridden voicemail. Knowing how to efficiently pick and choose your battles, is NOT for the weak. Determining when to think with your heart and when to think with your head is a skill acquired through years of blood, sweat, and most of all – tears. Not something that lands in your lap.
So I will continue to be this nice girl, with nice dreams until I meet a man who is just as nice, as he is nice looking. Someone who is just as “chill” as me, but understands that I’ll have my moments. Because I couldn’t be the asshole that finishes first even if I tried.
Or, shit. Maybe I’ll just wait until I snap. ‘Cuz like another Facebook status I saw from my girl Chey said, “There’s a crazy bitch somewhere inside of me that is begging for a reason to go H.A.M. on a motherfucker.”
Let’s hope the former happens first.