I Love My Douchebag

Photo by: https://www.flickr.com/photos/katietegtmeyer/
Photo by: https://www.flickr.com/photos/katietegtmeyer/

Every girl, at least every girl I know, has that one douchebag that they will never let go.

From what I remember…He was funny, I was drunk. And there you go, the inevitable make out happened. In my eyes, this was just another fun, nonchalant make out session at a day drink. Little did I know this person would become my best friend and worst enemy.

After the initial hook up, we would randomly see each other at parties and the chemistry (or drunk lust) sparked again. He was a good kisser, so what the heck right? After multiple make out sessions, I eventually gave him my number. When he texted me I played hard to get because I really didn’t take him seriously. He was older and all of his friends warned me of the infamous player he was. He was known for being the life of the party and a man of many women. I should’ve saw this as a red flag, but it intrigued me.

Finally someone who can keep up with me. Finally someone who loved being wild and free as much as I did. I let my guard down. Something I hadn’t done in awhile.

The ‘once in a blue moon’ texts suddenly became daily. He knew how to keep me laughing and on my toes, but there was something in the back of my mind that said he couldn’t be trusted.

He would only admit he “sort of” had feelings when I dragged it out of him after countless drunk texts begging for answers. I would hear about the random girls he hooked up with behind my back and I would tell myself it’s justified because we had no label…we weren’t dating. We were in the realm of casually hooking up, which I had no idea what that meant.

No one asks for clarification of their “relationship” because no one wants to be the one to admit they have feelings. No one wants to put themselves out their just to get denied. No one wants to be the first to cave.

Eventually I learned he wasn’t as wild and free as I was…he was way more than that. My feelings and opinions got railroaded over. I started off with the control and I lost it subtly and then all at once. I felt it slip right out of my hands each time I heard he hooked up with someone else and I felt a sharp pain in my chest, or when he would ignore my texts, or when he would tell me to “grow up” (a line which was said way too often for my liking.)

I lost myself. I was no longer confident, assure of myself, or proud of who I was. I became a passive aggressive psycho bitch. I subtweeted lyrics of our favorite band. I would go to parties and flirt with his friends. One time I even went as far as hooking up with his best friend right in front of his face. I posted Elite Daily articles about break ups and moving on as my status on Facebook. And in the end, it made everything worse. My cries for his attention were seen as immature nonsense, something that he “didn’t have time for.”

I just wanted him to care and he just wanted me to stop caring.

There’s a saying- “Why do I keep hitting myself with a hammer? Because it feels so good when I stop.” I enjoyed the pain and suffering. Every girl wants to change a bad boy. They love the story of how some girl finally changed the bad guy into a good boy. How he treated her like crap and he hurt her so badly…then he finally came back and realized they were meant to be. That’s bullshit. If he treats you like crap, it’s cause he doesn’t care about your feelings. And you have to decide if thats something you can handle.

I love my douchebag, we’re amazing friends now. I don’t think he’ll ever realize how big of a lesson he was to me. I learned that subtweets and passive aggressive Facebook statuses only cause more problems. I learned drunk texts don’t solve anything. I learned that just because it’s great when it’s good doesn’t mean it’s right. I learned that it’s okay to forgive, but never forget. I love my douchebag, he’s my best friend. But I’ll never forget the endless nights crying on the bathroom floor, or the embarrassment I felt when he hooked up with my “friends” in front of me, or the names he called me behind my back.

I might not have my love life all figured out, but I’m glad to have my douchebag along for the ride…as a friend, or something like it.

Maya Holley

2 thoughts on “I Love My Douchebag

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