I should really be working on so many things right now. But there’s this post that’s just been bothering me lately and my columnist tendencies have me itching to respond. Below is the last paragraph of said post. I think the person who wrote it was simply ranting about how inadequate he feels next to this girl he is referring to, for whom he feels somewhat inadequate in comparison. Which is the sweetest, and dumbest, thing in the world. After writing this, I realized I started with a rant and ended with something that sounds very much like a lecture. That’s probably me subconsciously scolding myself for ignoring school work in favor of replying to a random person’s composition. Or more likely, that’s me scolding myself for submitting to every other single person’s hang-ups come February. I mean, I should be better than that, right? What’s weird is I’m not even actively seeking anything beyond friendships, and have already moved on from any romantic aspirations I may have still harbored for anyone for so long. Oh well. Angsty and confused, that’s always been me.
Don’t date a girl who reads because girls who read are the storytellers. You with the Joyce, you with the Nabokov, you with the Woolf. You there in the library, on the platform of the metro, you in the corner of the café, you in the window of your room. You, who make my life so god damned difficult. The girl who reads has spun out the account of her life and it is bursting with meaning. She insists that her narratives are rich, her supporting cast colorful, and her typeface bold. You, the girl who reads, make me want to be everything that I am not. But I am weak and I will fail you, because you have dreamed, properly, of someone who is better than I am. You will not accept the life that I told of at the beginning of this piece. You will accept nothing less than passion, and perfection, and a life worthy of being storied. So out with you, girl who reads. Take the next southbound train and take your Hemingway with you. I hate you. I really, really, really hate you.
– from You Should Date An Illiterate Girl by Charles Warne(http://thoughtcatalog.com/2011/dont-date-a-girl-who-reads/)
To Every Straight Male Emasculated by a Smarter Female
a.k.a. You Should Date a Girl who Reads AND Writes
This time around no sarcasm is in order. No tongue-in-cheek references or euphemisms for the sake of political correctness and diplomacy. This time I’ll be brusque, mean, and straight to the point. This girl may be having a bitch fit but this girl is a smart bitch with something to say.
You were right about one thing. A girl who reads will make your life god damned difficult; especially if you, yourself, are so damn difficult to deal with. A girl who reads is aware of what she basically deserves in a relationship and will not settle for anything less. She would not expect to be at the center of your universe, but she would not be pushed aside for every little thing you believe to be important. She would expect at least a few minutes of your day, not to stare at each other and smile emptily, or to grope each and every available part of your body. She would expect at least a few exchanges of honest thoughts and emotions. She would expect you to hold her hand when you walk, smell her hair when you sit side-by-side, kiss her nose when you say goodbye. She would tell you her dreams, and her hopes, and her plans, and she would want to know yours. You may not be the man she once dreamed of, but you are the one she now dreams about, and dreams to someday dream with. She will not accept life as it is, and wouldn’t expect the same from you.
A girl who writes will take it one step further and make your life hell. She would demand a full account of your priorities, and decide for herself where she would want to be placed. She would come up with reasons justifying why she should at least come before television, and would refuse to be secondary to anything along the lines of pissing contests or any competitions of such sort. More than an articulation of abstract notions, she would demand a few minutes of substantial conversation, perhaps a few lines on the highs and lows of your day, and she would expect a discussion afterwards. Feelings such as “happy” and “sad” have no place with a writer, who would much rather decipher the cause of your feelings of sudden optimism or inner turmoil. She would look at what is said and, more importantly, listen to what is not said or need not be said. She will read between the lines, sense the undercurrents, listen to changes of tones and take note of hidden meanings.
A girl who writes can tell when you lie, even when she convinces herself you didn’t. She would know when you hide things, and will let you because she has a lot to hide herself. She would pretend to be perfect, and hope you do not notice her imperfections. She would adapt to what she believes you would believe perfect, because a girl who writes knows how to change her tone to reach her audience. She would lie, and she would joke, and she would slowly unravel. She will be ashamed of her unspoken thoughts, of her emotions that she could not find the right way of expressing – how embarrassing, for a writer to be at a loss for words. She, who prefers the simple language to get her thoughts through; She, who would so easily pinpoint others’ errors; She, who simply wants to be loved for herself, but is afraid of being feared for who she really is.
A girl who reads, and a girl who writes, knows how rare a find she is. But even more, a girl who reads and writes knows how rare a find you are. You, who cares deeply; You, who feels inadequate; You, who tries to be everything she hopes you to be, yet fails adorably.
She will want to be everything YOU believe her to be, feeling the pressure from you putting her on a pedestal. She will see herself from your eyes, and she will hope to be the only girl in your eyes. You see, the girl who reads and writes knows reality, she knows how easily happiness may be snatched away. She has seen more than anyone should see in a life time, and knows how lucky she is to have you. For her, no other guy measures up to you, and she hopes that someday you’ll see her in that way too. She looks not for perfection, but passion that comes from knowing how good the two of you are together, She would not look for a life worthy of a story, she could make up enough of those to last her decades. She asks merely for understanding and respect, not a fairy tale. All she wants is you who loves truly. And when I find you, I will love you, and I will never, never, never let you go.