You Can’t Always Want What You Get

There are two men in my life right now. That alone is worth posting about, but the two men pose a very interesting dilemma.
These two guys, they are at opposite ends of the spectrum. Guy One is sweet and nice and wants to be good at me. He calls me to tell me that he’s going to be in the middle of nowhere and may not be able to call, but he’s going to try. He doesn’t ever want me to think he’s not interested. He wants to take me on nice dates and have fun and just be my boyfriend. He’s got a great job and a great life and he’s looking for a great girl to complete the circle.
Guy Two has no interest in commitment. He just wants to do nasty things to me in bed.
Guess which one I’m hoping calls tonight?
I’m hoping that my visceral reaction to Guy Two is just a reaction to AJ’s only wanting to snuggle and that I’m not completely screwed up. Don’t worry if you’re snickering. I’m not really buying it either.
Guy Two doesn’t call on a regular basis. He hardly calls at all. He’s a big text-message and email fan. Part of it is the hours that we work, but the bigger part is he doesn’t want to get too close.
Guy Two knows just how to be sweet enough to keep me intrigued. He asked me to email him a picture (oh, to really blow a hole in my “not completely screwed up” theory, Guy Two is currently across the world, reporting from a war zone. Did I mention Guy Two and I work together? I rule!). He makes sure to deal with my neurosis and calls when he leaves on life-endangering missions and every time he lands after getting on a plane. He spends 12-14 hours a day talking with me.
But Guy Two isn’t looking for a girlfriend. Guy Two is looking for Osama.
Why is it that the biggest turn-off to me is a guy who’s interested? There is nothing that peaks my interest more in knowing that I might not be able to get what I want. If I have to fight for your interest, if I have to pull out all my tricks to keep you entertained, then you’re the one that I want.
Just want me to be me? Chances are we aren’t going to make it to the fourth date. The attention’s fun for a while, but I’m going to get bored faster than a hummingbird with ADD.
For all I preach about how all I want is a nice guy to be good to me, I really don’t. I want an asshole. I want an asshole so badly I can taste it. I want somebody who won’t call when they say they will, somebody who won’t commit, somebody who lives in a place, physically and emotionally, that is completely inaccessible. And then I want to bitch to all my friends that I’m not being treated fairly and why can’t I find a nice guy? But I had the nice guy. Had him in the palm of my hand. I didn’t want him. There was an asshole around and he distracted me like something shiny.
I know I’m not the only one out there. I know a couple, friends of friends, where the girl is the sweetest, cutest person I know and the guy she’s been dating for a year and a half doesn’t want to admit he’s in a relationship because he’s too full of himself to realize he’s never going to do better. In fact, he should be thanking his favorite deity every day that he got somebody this good. But he treats her like shit and she chases him around like a puppy dog and that’s how their relationship works. I always look at the two of them and say, “Why won’t she dump his sorry ass? She’s so perfect, she can do much better.” And then I go lust after whatever asshole isn’t interested in me at the moment.
What is it that’s so attractive about the asshole? I wish I knew. Usually, they’re good-looking and they know it. They just exude confidence. They are charismatic to a fault. They can make you feel like the most important person in the room when you’re around them and, when they take it away, it’s like coming down off a high. You spend the rest of the next few years trying to get back to that original high. The one that made you feel like you were queen of the world.
Nice guy? Well, he’s not so great-looking. He’s cute, but he’s never the drop-dead-gorgeous that asshole is. He’s usually smarter than asshole, but not as charismatic. And he definitely lacks the confidence asshole’s got. He walks around wondering how in the hell he got so lucky with a girl who can clearly do better.
It doesn’t take much time for that attitude to pervade the relationship. Pretty soon, you’re both wondering how the hell he got so lucky. Maybe it’s time you try to find that something better. And so you blithely go chasing after asshole, heart on a platter, free for the stomping.