My general mantra in life has always been something along the lines of Boys are stupid. Throw rocks at them (thank you, David and Goliath). Tonight that belief would have been forever cemented in my mind were it not for one particular boy who showed me that there are still decent guys in this world.
My friends and I had decided on the spur of the moment to have a night out, despite the masses of work piling up on our desks. We arrived at the local hotspot Friars, had a few drinks and hit the dancefloor. Now usually my nights out lead to at least one hookup, be it a random lunge from a friend or a more promising kiss from a prospective future boyfriend. Tonight, in short, was a fail.
The failure began when the guy I'd last hooked up with walked past me and didn't even glance my way, forget taking the time to say hello. He eventually mumbled a greeting to me later in the night, but only when the friend I was following literally walked into him (and not on purpose. She had no idea who he was. Or how awkward it was for me). I mean sure, if you don't want to hook up with me that's not a big deal in my life. But don't mutter hello while gazing pointedly over my head as if I'm an annoying two-year-old. They're called 'manners', learn how to use them.
The failure worsened when the guy I've been trying to hook my friend up with - dropping general hints, dragging them places together and doing everything except locking them alone in a closet - decided to fade early and abandoned us. Idiot.
My night was clearly on its way downhill. A guy I had an on-off romance with last year kept looking at me strangely and laughing. One I'd had a brief scene with earlier this year completely ignored my existence and walked past me several times. The younger guy I had spent most of o-week with stopped to chat but didn't bother to explain why he had simply stopped talking to me a few weeks before. Morale was at an all-time low, and the sweaty, stuffy heat of the dancefloor wasn't helping. I headed out into the bar to cool off and feel sorry for myself.
And then, out of the blue, a guy appeared. Now I suppose you could say I have a lot of history with him...we hooked up a few times last year, and had a romance this year that ended badly. I'd rather not go into exact details, but whatever the reason, we hadn't spoken since. He asked if I was all right, then - to my surprise - made a sincere apology about what had happened between us and asked if we could still be friends. For some reason, this simple act made me smile. It meant a lot to patch things up with him, and it reminded me that not all guys are jerk-asshole-douchbags.
If you're reading this, I hope you know who you are. And I want to say I'm sorry too, for everything that happened. For hooking up with the first year even though you told me you liked me. For being too scared to admit that I liked you too. For everything that happened during the awkward night in Friars that started this whole fight. And most of all I want to say sorry for treating one of the few decent guys I've met here so badly. I didn't mean to screw everything up, but I seem to do that a lot. I'm glad we can be friends again.
I guess I just wish things could have happened differently between us.
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