I know I have pointed this out many times before, but if one looks up the etymology of the word “nice”, it comes from “nothing”…literally.
It is starting to drive me insane. It really is.
I am a nice guy.
Always have been.
Problem is, women do not go for nice guys. We are too nice.
The want the rogue. The guy with a little bad boy streak. The guy on the motorcycle with the skull and cross bones tattoo (not like my tatts that my daughters picked and designed).
Honestly, much as I have written of the eros…and some is based on experience…not experiencing much lately. I stated a couple of months back on Twitter and Facebook that I am now “more single than I have ever been since high school”. Still am…
May not seem like two months sounds long, but when one has had somewhat of an easy time finding kindred spirits…*ahem*, allow me to rephrase…local kindred spirits somewhat easily for 23 years…then two months becomes an eternity.
I am not even talking about sex here. Of course sex, when done correctly under physician supervision, can be fantastic…but I just miss the touch of a hand. Making a goddess laugh. The sigh when she glances at me that says she is happy I am there. I miss watching her sleep…and in that case, draw your own conclusions, but the last time I was so fortunate, she was still fully clothed. I also miss waking to kiss her bare shoulder before crawling out of bed to start my day…no clothing that time.
But, again, I am a nice guy.
I take no for an answer.
Odds are I would happily go to the Moon and back for a goddess…twice before she was even able to get the rogue to look at the idea.
…please, one day. I will be 41 in less than a month and, now officially in middle age means that “one day”s are replaced by “if you’re lucky”s.
Another problem with being a nice guy…a nice guy with a romantic streak…is that I will fall in love too easily. Two marriages have proven that…and though divorce is an experience, wish I had learned better after the first one. Suffice, I cannot rush in again as I have in the past which makes this entire want a bit of a paradox.
I am a nice guy. Hell, I’m a great guy for the right goddess.
It seems there are some who see this…from a distance. I have a select few friends who have become close…that I have never seen a live face of, and likely never will as such goddesses live in far away lands with problems of their own and come to me for an ear, a laugh and an escape…something I am too happy to assist them with. These beautiful souls that I treasure are in need, but there is only so much I can do when they are hundreds of kilometres away..or more. Why cannot just one be within, I don’t know…say 20 km? Just one?
I am, however, starting to think my time of pleasing a goddess is dwindling. That is a younger man’s game and, perhaps, I am now too jaded to do it again. Maybe I have become too independent…too quirky…too nice.
Lay my coat across a puddle for her…hell, even I will lay myself across the puddle for her…but apparently things like romance through chivalry and gentlemen need no longer apply. Apparently this, in an age of equality, is too quirky…or so I have been told by one I was attempting to flirt with.
I must have missed the memo when a sense of humour and a little creativity makes one “too quirky”…
Alas, I do not take this personally. I just take it and walk away with a smile. Thanking her for her time and for pointing out my flaws.
After all, I am a nice guy.