An Open Letter from Miss Solomon: From Nice to NEXT!
Dear Nice Guys of The World,
Hey there, what’s up? I know we haven’t spoken in awhile but I feel bad about the way things ended. Once we parted I thought I’d never speak to you again. Still, I couldn’t leave you with so many questions, wondering why things didn’t work out when they seemed to be going so well.
Things were going well, actually. I didn’t mind that you’d call me the second I said I would be home or back from a trip. Thanks to caller id, I never had to answer. Even the senseless texts and your attempts at humor didn’t bother me.
The truth is I just wanted you to take some initiative and escape all the fears that had held you back with other women and make one exception for me. I wanted to hear from your own mouth what you thought of me and what you wanted from me.
Don’t hate me for saying this but I was testing you. Obviously you didn’t pass. I know it brings up questions about what women really want but you have to understand even when you’re on a date with one women you’re still competing against every other man that wants to date her too.
I wasn’t trying to see how much you would let me get away with or how much of your dignity you’d let me take, I only wanted to know if you had a backbone and where exactly was it.
I would’ve been fine without the five star dining had you offered more interesting and riveting conversation. I would have been content with inexpensive dates had you only thought more creatively. All I wanted was for you to be your own person and have your own thoughts. Oh and for you to stop thinking that if you were a cast member of Entourage, you’d be Vincent Chase.
From the moment we met I could tell that you liked me a lot and while on most occasions it’s flattering, I got the impression that you liked me but you didn’t know me. It seemed like everything I ever said about anything just went right over your head. For as long as we dated, I doubt you ever even knew my favorite color or my middle name.
Whether or not I was funny you laughed at my jokes, whether or not I was hungry you wanted to take me to dinner. No matter what I said, I always felt that you just weren’t listening to who I was. I would always just be a beautiful woman.
You never realized that to me you were not a beautiful man. You were supposed to be the reason why looks don’t matter. You were supposed to be the kind of guy who listened and was attentive, able to stimulate my mind with intense conversations and deep debate. Instead you agreed with everything I said.
All you could think about was having sex. You had the look of a thirteen year old seeing porn for the first time and you didn’t even realize how many times I’d seen that look before. The minute inexperience was painted all over your face I knew we could never be.
I guess I kept thinking under the shyness and insecurities there would be an exciting, charismatic and interesting guy. You repeatedly found ways to prove me wrong. You abandoned all sincerity and let hormones take you over.
I needed you to see yourself, the way I saw you as a man who was given a chance. For all the times you swore you finished last, or were ignored. I gave you an opportunity to prove everyone wrong. You could’ve showed me that there was something to nice guys that women were missing out on. You didn’t.
You require more patience, more affection, more coaxing and coddling than any other man I’ve ever dated. Our past has been so full of boring chitchat, bitchassness and awkward kissing that I just don’t see how we could ever have a future.
I hope you will learn from this letter and find a way to make yourself either far more interesting or more self-aware. If you see me in the streets, please don’t speak.