It was happening all over again. I lay on my bed, phone pressed to my ear. “I wish a guy would care. Why doesn’t anyone love me?” the one I loved asked me. I was in silent tears. “I don’t know,” I replied softly.

I hate when girls don’t trust guys, telling us matter-of-factly that guys all want the same thing. Sex. That’s not always the case, and I hate the stereotype. Those guys, the “bad” guys, the guys who use the girls, make it hard for us caring guys. They step on a girl’s heart, before a nice guy can come in and hold it dearly beside his own.

But the point of view on the girls’ side is understandable, I’ve realized, as I’ve heard stories about the evil things guys can do to girls. I wonder if they understand that they truly damage them. What could provoke a guy to do anything horrible to an innocent girl? To simply break the girl’s heart, and leave it trashed without any worry or concern that she will very possibly not have the strength to repair it. That’s where I often come in. I help them mend their own heart. I’ve always helped and I’ve always cared. Apparently, this makes me an amazing best friend who is just always there.

What I so obviously lack the imagination to understand is why the girls, always, still want what the bad guys. The mean guy. The stoned guy, the drunk guy. The one that will definitely hurt and use her. I don’t understand why the girl can never turn around and see that the nice guy, the sweet and clean guy, and the guy that cares so whole-heartedly is right next to her, hoping beyond hope that he’ll get a chance to prove his love. I don’t understand why no girl can give me the trust of her heart. I would cherish the trust. When have I ever tried to hurt someone? When have I ever lied to get what I want? When have I done drugs? I haven’t. So, I don’t understand. The guy she describes, the guy she says she wants, sounds like me. Every time. So why do I not get the chance to be her world? I guess I won’t, despite the fact that she’s already mine.

So, should I change? Should I become forever worried about my drug supply and sex? Should I simply stop caring? Caring is getting me nowhere but lonely. I could make a girl feel beautiful, and most definitely show her how that she is loved. But what’s the point in having the passion if it never gets to escape from me?

My two best friend’s, the male ones, changed. They use to care; they use to want to romantically whisk the girls off of their feet. Now they just want to use the girls for sex, along with a fun time with drugs and alcohol. I’ve never had drugs, or alcohol, and I don’t have the slightest inclination to do so. Is that the problem? I don’t understand. Is a mean, drugged, and drunk guy what a girl looks for? What they crave? Or do they like to be treated wrong? Do they like to feel that they’re loved because they get to share the drugs? Maybe I should be one of the drugged guys, and forever only look for sex. I think about it a lot. My friends are happy that way. Would I be? I could be. But I don’t want to change. But this everyday feeling of utter uselessness and deep sadness, along with the feeling of being invisible, I don’t know how I can live with it. So, Is it worth staying me?

Two days after the phone call, she runs up to me at school. She gives me a hug and talks excitedly, a smile obvious on her beautiful face. “So there’s this boy that I like. He’s way cute. I think you’ll approve.” She points him out to me. I know him. He’s one of the bad guys. I nod at her, while just wishing that for once, she were pointing at me.