I'm honestly not trying to be mean when I say, have you ever seen an attractive girl with a not-so-attractive guy and wondered, "Why...?" If we tend to gravitate toward people who, on a scale of 1-10, are two points away either way, why is a girl who's, say, an 8, with a guy who's a 3?
Good-looking girls go for good-looking guys. Plain and simple. You find me an attractive girl who says she isn't into looks at all, and I'll tell you she's ordered a tall glass of "I'm lying through my teeth" and you're drinking right out of it if you believe her.
So why are there 8s with 3s? My theory is because these girls are done. Done with the jerks who think they can get away with anything. Done with being hurt so many times that the girl who once wouldn't settle is, well, settling. Not to a bad 3 but to the realization that there doesn't exist a good guy who has the looks to match, a notion the rest of us have yet to discover as we still cling desperately to the contrary.
Nice guys may finish last, but they end up with the gold. Right?
How many times does it take to get over a guy? Twice, according to a friend of mine.
The first time is after the actual breakup. You know the drill -- ice cream, chick flicks, emo status updates... But however long it takes to get there, the destination is always the same. Sooner or later, you're back on your feet, kicking old doors closed and looking to open new ones.
Then there's a second time -- when he starts dating again. That's when another door is wrenched open, and buried (maybe even forgotten) emotions are brought to the surface for an unsolicited reunion. You were so focused on your successful recovery that you may have missed his. The good news is, things are always easier the second time around. Something to shake off the dust may still be in order, but you can leave the ice cream in the freezer.
If love is everywhere, why is it so damn hard to find?
Herein lies the blog of a girl who asks herself that and attempts to understand it here. Maybe love is shy and hiding. Maybe love is selective in whom it shares itself with. But if love is secretly disguised as the droopy-eyed creep lurking in the corner, waiting until you're least guarded to throw out some lame line about your eyes, well, love as we've been taught may just be the greatest urban legend of all time.
Whether it's my cynicism that makes me unlucky in love or my bad luck that makes me cynical...I guess we have here the classic case of "chicken or the egg."