Prince Charming is a Douche
It really just boggles my mind.
We do all the things we’re taught are right & proper… keep up our appearance, try to be the brightest, wittiest, best that we can be. We get our hair done, our nails, we peel away layers upon layers of skin & inject chemicals into the first signs of a facial flaw. But none of that matters. And even more depressing… no matter how responsible we are, how kind, how strong of character…
It just doesn’t matter.
We can try until we’re all out of tries, have the coolest car, the biggest house, the most fit body, the most beautiful face.
We can scream until our throats are raw, but they don’t hear us.
They just use us until they get what they need from us and move on to the next shiny object, using any excuse that will allow them to disappear from the scene blameless & with a wide open door for them to return to on a whim.
Lucky us. We get to watch from the sidelines because of horribly omniscient social media applications as a new courtship blossoms, crushed that we weren’t “That Girl.”
We think to ourselves, “What’s wrong with me?” because there certainly must be something since we were kicked aside so abruptly.
And we start believing it.
Because some asshole decided to treat us as if we were disposable.
We believe their excuses. And even make excuses for them to our friends, because our friends of course like us to be with that “Good-Looking Guy.” Everyone wants the fairy tale. Everyone wants Prince Charming. Believe me, looks are 99.9% deceiving.
But we always fall for it…
Because for some reason, we see something good in these assholes.
I honestly have no idea why.
And I sincerely hope I’m not going to be seen as a bitch for saying NO more than yes, but it’s my M.O.
I don’t have a damn thing to prove.