I know I am nothing but a meantime girl.
No, please don’t get me wrong because being a meantime girl doesn’t necessarily mean that I’d go for sex with a stranger or flirt with someone I just met at a bar. It’s really sad to know that the notion of a meantime girl always falls under the overrated category of being a slut. No, I am not a slut…But I am too much inlove that sometimes, I’d do anything just to make him happy. Even though I know right from the start that he wouldn’t care for me more than just his friend, I’d still find delight to text him sweet nothings and let him know that I care. He only remembers me whenever he needs something and he only cares when he’s too damn bored to be alone. But then, no matter how preoccupied I am and no matter how many long exams I have the next day, I’d always leave it all behind just to be his company. I’d always play the role of tinkerbell and fulfill his wishes – any of it. So, you do think that’s worse than having sex with a complete stranger, don’t you?
Well, I guess that would always be who I am to him – his meantime girl whom he’d cling to whenever his friends are out and whenever he’s had this petty fight with his gorgeous girlfriend. More often than not, I’d do the first move of texting him. I’d rope in my caught up emotions with my words of regards. And yeah, he’d sometimes reply just in case he feels drag or anything. And whenever his name would pop up at the screen of my phone, it’s as if I’ve actually had a real smooch with Josh Hartnett. Just a mere forwarded message he sent would mean a dreamy night for me – a slumber full of hopes and wishes that he may, in one way, notice me as being more than his buddy.
All these years, I’ve always waited for him to notice me and for his past feelings for me to come back. But all these years of waiting are cast in vain. Yeah, right! I know it’s completely pathetic to share it but i almost had him before. But because of my complete absurdity, I ignored him because I thought he was just fooling around. I was entirely stupid back then to let him slip away and until now all these regrets taunt me each night. Maybe he was really just fooling around but I shouldn’t have cared less about it, should I? I knew I should have grabbed my chance.
And now, well I guess, he might have come to his senses and realized that he shouldn’t have liked an ugly girl in the first place. Ugly girls are intended to be played around and to be the ones to cling to only when boredom occurs. Ugly girls are meantime girls in disguise. They are the ones whom men stick to when asking a major favor whom they’d gladly fulfill. They are the ones whom men text to whenever they felt alone and they couldn’t count on to somebody else. They always make men happy by adhering to these men’s demands. Meantime girls are the you-can-always-count-on-me types and I-am-always-here-for-you sorts of girls whose hearts were always tormented by unfulfilled wishes. They have simple wishes. They have simple dreams. All they want is for their man to notice them and for their dream guy to realize that they’re more than a bunch of undeserving girls fulfilling their demands. All they want is to be loved and to be considered just as special as they consider their man. But sadly, all their wants are mere wishful thinking. Believe me on how I depict the real score about these poor girls. I know how sad they feel. I know just as much as how their unrequited love strain them night after night. I know how succumbed they suffer. I am nothing but a meantime girl, remember?
But sometimes, meantime girls also get exhausted of being treated as one-of-the-girls. At times, I also get tired on how ordinary he considers me and on how cold he behaves whenever I attempt to be sweet to him. I know, deep inside that he knows about my feelings for him. I know that he’s aware that I’d do anything just to please him. But then he struggles to ignore it because he believes that I am not worthy of him. But then, he can’t just throw me away because he needs me, somehow. Without me, there wouldn’t be the girl who’d do his favors, who’d answer his questions, and who’d always be there for him. Without me, there wouldn’t be the pathetic girl who’d leave her busy life behind just to share his hours of dreariness. Without his meantime girl, there wouldn’t be any girl who could stand his tantrums and swallow his drawbacks. Tiring, isn’t it? Meantime girls also know how to weep over their solitude. Just in case men don’t know, we also learn how to get tired and upset – just that we don’t have the right to show it.
The only problem about us is that we love too much that we intend to forget ourselves for that matter. We do every possible thing – we would pretend to be Mandy Moore and sing “Cry” in front of his friends or we would snort marijuana just in case doing so would make him laugh – all these things we’d do, no matter how humiliating and how self-degrading it may appear, just to make our men happy and glad. We struggle to appear the smart-ass by giving in to their advances yet we are the losers in their game of nonchalance all along. We preoccupy ourselves in earning the hypothetical yet acclaimed “ganda points” that in the process make us look/feel more ugly. We strain to be noticed… but still, they never give a damn!
Yet, despite of our obvious stupidity of humming in to Mandy Moore’s song and our virtual idiosyncrasy of puffing weed, we are still too much inlove. We have become hopeless romantics on our own that no matter how much hot tears are drained from us each night, we still see the sparks fluttering whenever we see our men’s faces. These sparks glimmer in the air as if the whole world is surrounded by silvermoon spotlights. These sparks are actual reminders on how far we’d go completely dense just for them.
And now, I am left with false hope that I still struggle to pursue. I am a meantime girl and I guess that will remain until my guy realizes my real worth – that is, if he actually has the capacity to see me beyond being the I’m-always-here-for-you girl. I know this sounds irrational but I do believe that everyone deserves a happy ending. I believe that if only I am good enough, he’d eventually be my Romeo. So, despite of people yelling at my back that I’m the stupidest person in the world and despite of my own friends pleading that my man doesn’t deserve a bit of me, I still have this flicker of hope that someday, somehow, I’ll eventually sweep him off his feet. I can wait… even if it takes for ages.
*the concept of this essay was inspired by an email entitled "Meantime Girl"
