I’ve lived it. The bad girl that meets Mr. Nice. The guy that cleans and bandages my wounds. A man that believes in who I am and not what I look like. Sounds like a fairy tale, right?
We met in a Target parking lot,and my bright green thong was showing. I thought that he would be just another notch in my belt. A woman as callous as myself, hardened from bed hopping, had no self-love far less love for anyone else.
I used to believe that being sexy was enough for me to keep him around. But little did I know that he could not bring himself to love “the bad girl”. He hated being reminded of my past lovers. He wanted to cover my cleavage and conceal my protruding bum. Anything that reminded him of that former girl that I used to be he wanted gone.
But that was who I was when he met me. A troubled woman, that got drunk and trashed his apartment. I was the woman that would do it any place, anytime and anywhere he wanted. He thought, I think, that I would only be “bad” with him, that he could save me from my reckless past and my broken self. After he got fed up with my crazy antics and he asked for a break he thought that I would be different from the way he first met me. But I wasn’t, I was just as “bad” with someone else. He thought that he could erase all the hand prints of the other men that I had been with before him, but he couldn’t and I couldn’t. It made him feel helpless.
I am surprised that we have lasted as long as we did. And I often wonder if people never complimented him on my appearance, if I never turned heads and caused near accidents, if the people he valued in his world didn’t call me beautiful, I wonder if he would have stuck around for so long, and given me all these chances. And yes, he did end up loving me, but we both still struggle with my past. Strangely, him more so than me.
Sleeping around with more men than I can remember was not worth it, because it made having a relationship with the person I wanted very difficult.
I told him when we first met that I have some issues, that I am not the most stable woman, but it didn’t bother him then because he was thinking with his crotch and not with his head. Being entangled emotionally with a “bad girl” is not fun for long.