Monday, August 24, 2009

A Eulogy For The Nice Guy...

.:A Eulogy To The Nice Guy:.

Pardon the third person. Marcelle promised to do this only at an extreme moment, and this certainly counts for that.

The past eight months have been Hades, and Marcelle has been doing everything he can just to survive the unmistakably painful crunch that has beset him. He buried imself in pretty much anything he can get his hands on: the unmistakable rush to do his thesis, to get a full-time job, to do standup comedy, to find opportunities to do magic, Marcelle turned to all of these things and more just so he could keep himself sane.

But you see, sanity is hardly an option for him. In the crazy hubbub that he engrosses himself in, he cannot but help and realize that his heart is in a wretched state: a point in his life where he realizes that he has been bled dry for love, and he is nearly at a point where he doesn’t want to hurt anymore. He tried finding a substitute for love, but there was always a gaping void that he can’t quite supplant despite all his supplications.

That’s why with each passing day, the resentment has built. He finds himself unworthy, as the object of his affection longs for “the nice guy”, yet there he is, stating his case, time and again, only to be rebuffed and heartbroken.

He’s tried to stay strong in the face of it all. In fact, a few months ago, he insisted that these setbacks won’t keep him from giving up on how he comports himself. Famous last words, really. It didn’t take long before he found himself being used and then thrown away afterwards, and he’s taken all he could take from “friends” and lovers alike, but he can’t take anymore.

It’s happened time and time again, and one fails to realize that no amount of love can make this work if it only comes from one person. When you’re made to feel insignificant and used after you’ve outlived your purpose for someone, it feels painful to have to move on. But indeed, you are a person who found himself in someone’s life for a reason, and that reason has past.

Some may find themselves lucky to find someone for a season. Others, perhaps, even a lifetime. But it would appear that is not Marcelle’s lot. In his desire to prove wrong the adage that “nice guys finish last”, he realized that he ended up living the adage.

And so, here’s my eulogy to the Nice Guy:

Do not weep for him who lies interred, for he deserves the slumber he now enjoys. The tears that would fall are but a waste, for where were those tears when he was still alive and breathing?

When he was at your beck and call, did you care what he was going through? Did you care about the minutes you stole away from him as you asked him to console you, knowing that he was there because he loved you with all his heart? It was no secret: the nice guy was always there, always caring for you, with no hidden hope or agenda. It was clear as day: he wanted to make you happy, and he was crazy enough to want it at the cost of his own happiness.

And perhaps that was his greatest fault. He went out on a limb for you, listened to you rant about the one whom you felt was worth your affection as he threw away your feelings because clearly, he had better things to do than to fight for you.

And then you look at your nice guy, and irony of ironies, you ask him, “Where are all the nice guys?”

Did you even think for a moment that he could make you happy?

Did you even think for a moment that he valued you more than those who have come before him ever did, as he stood by you, listened to you, was a shoulder to cry on, and for not one moment did he hesitate to make it clear how he felt about you?

Did it not bother you that perhaps, you exploited the fact that he’d go out on a limb for you, knowing he’d do it because he loves you, no matter how much it hurt him or how embarrassing it all would be for him?

Of course not. None of this ever occurred to you. All that mattered is you had someone to reaffirm your ego: the male equivalent of the meantime girl, at your beck and call, content with a “thank you”, never asking for more, because he realizes that to ask for more would mean the end of this relationship that, unbeknownst to him, is a complete farce that he deludes himself into believing could lead to something better when the time is right, and that time is simply not right now.

And now, he’s bitter and resentful. Not of you, but oh, how he wishes it were! But he cannot blame you. He can only blame himself.

In the end, the nice guy realizes that he was a fool, and he was wrong to hope that showing you how much better he could be would make you come around. He wishes he could keep on loving you like the fool that he truly is, but he also realizes that it’s killing him to see him being overlooked and ignored time and time again, as though you existed solely to drain him of his spirits to replenish yourself then leave him by the wayside again until you need another picker-upper.

He loved you, and yet you never loved him. Whose fault was it that he is now miserable for that? Certainly not yours, for there is no reason for you to ever be obliged to reciprocate one’s affections. But realizing that the blame is entirely his does nothing to make him feel less pain now, does it? Understanding doesn’t make it any less painful.

The nice guy is a dying breed because you happen to him. Don’t deceive yourself into thinking that what you want is a nice guy, because all you’ve ever really done is to refuse every single one of them in favour of some jackass who would treat you the way you treat your nice guy. It’s easy to take the nice guy for granted because you know that he’ll always be there for you with but a snap of a finger. You’d never give your heart to him, but he’ll always be there when you’ve had a bad day, when you’ve been wronged, when you need encouragement from someone who can and will look past all your faults and see you for the wonderful human being that you believe you truly are.

Or will he?

Nice guys have limits, too. And perhaps it would be fine if you had the chance to tell yourself that you never knew how he felt about you, but when you know what he hopes for, and yet you still exploit the fact that he’s a fool for you, perhaps it’s time to examine yourself, and ask yourself if it’s better to just not give him anymore false hope, and instead simply make him realize that he doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in Hades to be with you.

Forgive the nice guy. He’s a bit stupid, and he’s a bit blind. Love can do that to people, and he certainly hopes you’d never end up even half as idiotic as he did for you.

But now, the nice guy is dead. Where he once had a heart that was shattered a million times but still beating for you, he now has a cold hunk of stone that beats for nobody but his own self-loathing and self-resentment. He wishes he can be like those other jackasses who get all the girls and throw them away like used socks afterwards, but he realizes that they are only stinging reminders of the truth: that he can never have you, and he doesn’t deserve someone like you. In fact, he doesn’t deserve anybody at all.

So please. Do not weep for the nice guy. He is but a fool who deserves to finally find rest, and for someone far wiser, but perhaps far less capable of love and affection and probably kindness, for that matter, to take his place.

Let him rest. Let there be no more Mr. Nice Guy.


thegreatest said...

So to who should we refer any future correspondences now, seeing as Mr. Nice guy has decided to take the long sleep?

deejay said...

i thoroughly enjoyed reading this. hahaha!

i think at some point, the nice guys of the world have got to unleash the big bad wolf inside them. :D

pwlsax said...

There's always Bitter Guy. He's got caustic laughs, mixes a mean drink, and reminds you you're still alive.

Unfortunately, he has absolutely nothing else to recommend him, and given have a chance he'll cut your life off at the knees. Not out of malice - it's just that bitter is all he knows.

Marcelle said...

@thegreatest: I dunno. Marcelle works, I guess.

@deejay: Thanks. It can't be helped sometimes.

@pwlsax: I begrudgingly admit that is an option, but I'd rather try something else than be Mr. Bitter Guy all the time.

Marcelle said...

... emphasis on "try".