Sigh. Thinking about it, I've probably done every stereotypical thing a teenage girl could do. Well, almost. But one thing I do have to fess up to? Falling for the average 'bad boy.' Yup, been there, done that.
And of course, I swore he was different when we first started talking well over a year ago. I could hang out with him, he would smoke cigarettes by the dozen, play his guitar, and contemplate life with me. We would sit at the end of his (grandma's) driveway into the wee hours of the morning discussing life, love, our similar music taste and everything else. I looked past the fact that when we weren't spending time together, he was doing less-than-admirable things (he was attempting to mimic the rock star lifestyle, basically.) I was "blinded by love" or whatever else ridiculous thing you'd like to call it. That or the fact that he listened to classic rock, had long hair, wore a leather jacket and jammed in various high school bands (he was a high school drop out.)
Now, you have to be thinking what I'm thinking now. Jessi, you're smarter than that! You've always known you deserve only the best! That's why you held out until you find the perfect boyfriend before you committed to a relationship!
But, no. We all go through phases of complete stupidity. Now, I can hope to stop you from shaking your head by telling you that I did not kiss that boy. That was something I never brought myself to do. We hugged and held hands, but I never let things go farther than that. Maybe it was the conscience in me screaming that this just would never work. It couldn't ever work. My oh my, am I glad something clicked in my head.
The epilogue to this story? One day the word relationship emerged from somewhere, and I think we both freaked out. However, he went on the rant of something along the lines of "well, I'm a drifter... I don't know if you could handle my lifestyle.... I don't even know what's gonna happen when I hit it big time...."
And I got pissed. Not because I was hurt, but because I was angry at myself. I was following around this Wannabe rock star (not as cool as me being a Wannabe Star.) I was interested in this guy who thought he was going to make it big time. A guy who thought the sun shined out his ass and thought that someday soon he'd be the next Slash. Not so much. I was humiliated that I had been along for the ride to pump up such an ego. And since he was acting so cocky, I let him have it.
Probably not my most mature move, but I told him that he was a sleaze and whatnot, and that we wouldn't work out even if he gave up the pipe dream. He was supposed to be the stereotypical bad boy, but he was a stereotypical lame-ass. I couldn't believe myself.
In short, things didn't end on the best note (no pun intended.) I still roll my eyes now when I hear Guns N Roses, but I'm sort of glad I got my "bad-boy" phase out of the way early. I'd hate to see myself go down that road at an older age.
So what is it about bad boys? Why is it that we're caught in a temporary coma when it comes to these guys? Maybe as a Steven Tyler fangirl, I thought that maybe I'd find myself in that lifestyle down the road. Haha, doubtful. But still, we've all been there, done that....right? Temporary lapse of judgment, anyone?
Photos via (We Heart It)