29/365

Jane says, “I’ve never been in love
I don’t know what it is”
Only knows if someone wants her
“I want them if they want me
I only know they want me”

 

She gets mad and she starts to cry
She takes a swing, she cant hit!
She don’t mean no harm
She just dont know
What else to do about it

I’ve seen this girl a hundred times. She’s the same girl that Train sings about in “Hey Virginia,” she’s Penny Lane from Almost Famous, she’s Clementine from from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, she’s Summer from 500 days of Summer. More alarmingly, she’s a multitude of girls that I’ve met in my real life, beautiful, artistic, wild, and “free.” She has a magnetic personality draws in everyone, desperate for a good time, she can make you laugh. She loves music, art, and especially loves musicians and artists. She can apply her make-up flawlessly without a mirror, has the most eclectic, beautiful sense of style, and her hair is always flawlessly messy.

I wanted to be her for so long. I saw the way my boyfriend looked at her, with a longing to have something that he could never really pin down. I’ve always been the safe choice. I’m awkward, and when I love, it’s always more than a fleeting fascination, I am devoted. But that devotion is often taken for granted, even if there is love in return. We always want what we can’t have, and She has that unattainable, glimmering opportunity wrapped up in her crooked smile.

And so the opportunities have come in my life where I got to know them. They were my best friends for seconds in time. We always laughed together, drank together, talked about boys. She taught me about designer clothes, expensive make-up, how to do a smoky eye. We talked about sex, She gave me the best tips because her experience outweighed mine by a long shot.

There was always a catch. Those girls, they aren’t capable of real friendships. They’d always end up hurting me, usually because of a boy. And for a long time, I’d assume that it was just luck of the draw – I somehow always drew the crazies.

But now, listening to this music, watching these movies, I see all those girls in each frame, hear them in each note. I see them for more than their sparkly-white smiles and funky style. I remember the drinking. They loved the drinking. I drank more my sophomore year of college than I had at any point leading up to that. Four, five nights a week, I’d be with her in my room (hers was inevitably too, too messy), sipping on screwdrivers and trying to do my math homework while listening to her ramble on about her incessant boy problems. The scenario was really a repeat of earlier experience in high school, with that other girl, and repeated yet again in my later college years.

These girls – the ones that from a distance are so beautiful and spirited, whose personalities I wanted to emulate and styles I wanted to steal…I found that shiny shell to be hollow. They’re broken, and that impairs them from anything real. They all come from broken homes and have let that get the better of them. They search for meaning in people, they connect, and then leave. I can’t say why, of course, because I never got to that point with them, and I never intend to get close again.

This is all well and good, an observation probably noted all across time and space. My question is more along the lines of why, why, why are men attracted to these girls? When in the room with this girl and a bunch of boys, I’m the wallflower. She’s stealing the conversations, flirting, taking drags of their cigarettes…and every boy is mesmerized. Well, sure, she knows how to manipulate.

But I think it’s more than that. It’s like they want to save her. They can see her broken wing, and they have to mend her. To what end? I think, after discussing it with my very small sample size, that “fixing” a girl can give a boy purpose. More than that, if a boy fixes said girl, there’s the feeling that she’s obligated to stay with him and then fill his own void.

“Too many guys think I’m a concept, or I complete them, or I’m gonna make them alive. But I’m just a fucked-up girl who’s lookin’ for my own peace of mind; don’t assign me yours.” -Clementine, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

I’ve never given much thought to my own strength as a girl and how that can be interpreted. I have my moments of utter self-loathing, but when push comes to shove, I’m a happy, confident, and strong. Isn’t it ridiculous that this combination might turn some boys off? Clearly, when it comes down to it, these are not the boys that I want to waste my time with – I want someone who loves that I’m strong and happy without his influence, but it’s just such a frustrating thought for me.

Ugh. I’m tempted not to press that publish button, simply because this seems like the quiet, whiny girl’s bitter rant against the pretty, shiny girls. But maybe I will…since it is, after all, based on real-life experience. And music and movies. Sometimes more accurate than real life…..