Nice Boy

He's a nice boy.  He's such a nice boy.  And you tell yourself he's kinda cute, too.

You know he would be good to you.  He would be so good to you.  He would be good for you, too.  And he's such a nice boy.

But you just don't love him.  There's no spark, no magic, no chemistry, no attraction.  Whatever you want to call it, it just isn't there.  But he's such a nice boy, and he deserves someone nice.

So when you go out with whoever tickles your fancy this week, you're asking about his sister or his cousin and trying to find someone for the other him, the one you could never see yourself loving.  The one you feel deserves the kind of love he could never get from you.

You talk him up to your female co-workers.  They think you secretly have a crush on the guy, but you know that isn't true.  It's ridiculous.  Sometimes you wish you could love him, but you just can't, it isn't there.

He doesn't make you feel all giddy and excited, the way that guy from six months ago did.  He doesn't make your heart race the way four months ago did.  He doesn't haunt your dreams they way two years ago sometimes still does.  Well, he haunts them in a different way at least.  You imagine him sad and alone and that breaks your heart.

So you keep looking, keep setting him up with girls, and he's polite and nice to all of them, because that's who he is, but he can never seem to commit to any of them, and that's when you notice he's looking at you.

"You're such a nice boy," you tell him, "and I wish... I really wish I wanted to be with you, but I just, I just can't see us as more than friends."

You feel like a jerk, but he smiles.  He says he understands.  He's a nice boy, and that's what nice boys do.

And so the days turn to weeks and to months and to years.  You still haven't found that special someone, that perfect combination of friendship and passion that you're starting to think must not exist.  And meanwhile, he seems to be living his life.  You've stopped interfering, stopped trying to set him up, and then one evening at a party, you notice he isn't alone.

Not only is he not alone, but he's smiling, and she's smiling, and they look so cute together.  He's a nice boy.  He's a nice girl.  They're perfect together, and then you find that something inside you doesn't feel quite right.

All those guys you didn't want, they're gone now.  The boy you thought you didn't want is standing right there, right across the room, with another girl, finally happy.  You should be happy for him.  This is what you wanted for him.  You weren't right for him.  You could never be right for him.  This girl he has now, she's so right, she's so perfect, and it makes you, you fight to not admit it to yourself, but it makes you just the tiniest bit jealous.

All those years he could have been yours and you didn't want him and now that he's with someone else you do?  What's wrong with you, woman!  You pull yourself together and have a nice evening, or at least pretend to.  You even make small talk with her.  She is such a nice girl.  You know he'll be happy with her.

And then you start to see him less and less.  You didn't realize what a good friend he was until he was gone, but you find that you miss him.  "Oh well," you tell yourself.  "There are always more friends to be made."  And there are, and it's true, and you make plenty of other friends, but you still miss him.  And then you realize you aren't dating anymore.  You just aren't interested in anyone.  Not right now anyway, but give it time and you're sure you'll find someone else.

You watch your friends get married around you.  You tell yourself it's okay; you're alright by yourself; you don't need anyone.  And even though you know in your head that this is true, you can't quite convince your heart of it.

You don't hear from him for a while after that.  You assume he must be happy.  It's been almost three years since that party.  You'd think they have gotten married by now, as happy as they seem to be together, but you'd like to think that even though you haven't spoken in so long, he'd at least have sent you an invite to the wedding.

Oh well.  Life goes on.  People change and grow and forget about the people they once loved so dearly, or else they regret not having loved them more.

And then before you know it, you're in the super market one day and you see him.  He's all alone and when you get closer you see there's no wedding band on his hand.  You don't even have to pretend to be happy to see him because you are, you really are.  You ask him how things have been and then you nervously ask how she's been doing.

This is when he shrugs and tells you how it didn't work out.  She wasn't quite as nice as he had thought after all.  And this is when you feel that little lurch in your stomach or maybe in your chest.  Sometimes they say your heart skipped a beat or that you have butterflies in your stomach.  Whatever it is, it makes you feel guilty because you find that for some bizarre reason you're glad that they aren't together anymore.

Then he laughs and says, "Well it's okay.  I'm a nice boy, right?  I'm sure I'll find someone else."

He's making a joke, maybe even referring back to what you had told him so many months, no, now it's years, ago.  Maybe he's even making fun of you a little, but you know that's not really true because he's a nice boy, he always has been and he always will be, and making fun of the girl he loves or at least once loved isn't something a nice boy would do.  Even though you broke his heart, you know he would never consciously break yours.

You don't know what's going to happen next.  You aren't sure what he wants.  You're pretty sure of what you want, but you know, after all these years, that all you really want is for him to have what he wants.  You don't want him to get what you think he wants or what you try to make him think he wants.  You want him to really, truly be happy, no matter who it might be with, though you have a few opinions about who you'd like it to be.  So as all this rushes through your head in less than a second, you're smiling at him, really smiling at him, and you just say, hoping that he gets it, "Yes, I'm sure you will."