Pretty Boy.

Here’s what I’ve learnt. I’ve learnt that pretty boys with prettier smiles and hair that you really want to touch. The pretty boy that smiles at you and puts his hands on your hips and wraps you in his arms as he chuckles at your awkwardness. The boys that tell you you’re cute and have a nice smile, the ones that promise they’ll make your life worth living. Let me tell you something about that pretty boy, he was so drunk he won’t remember your name in the morning and if he does he doesn’t care because you didn’t roll over and tell him how amazing he is, despite the fact that you were thinking it. He’ll ignore you when you text him because he doesn’t care. He’ll ignore you despite your hopes, despite your friends telling you that he’ll definitely reply. He doesn’t care that that he turned a light on inside of you when you he said your name or smiled at you, he doesn’t care that you were so nervous that you had no words when he told you you're cute, he doesn’t care that if he gave you a chance you’d do everything in your power to change his world. He doesn’t care. He never wanted to hold you close enough to put your broken pieces back together; he never wanted car rides to anywhere singing along to the awful songs. He wanted something you’re not. He wanted a girl with no voice or morals or beliefs. He wanted a pretty face that would say "How high?" When he said "jump". And guess what? You’re not that girl. You never have been and never will be. You want to make a difference and he wants to have a good time, maybe if he looked at the price tag on the good times he might want it a little less, maybe not. He’s a player who saw you for your nice smile and shiny hair that isn’t even a fraction of who you are or what you have to offer. He wanted one biscuit out of the pack. Be patient, soon there’ll be someone who wants every damn crumb. I’ve learnt that having a pretty smile means nothing if there’s a scowl on the inside of his soul.