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Haha, idk. But let me share some wisdom with the younger guys here. As a few of you may know, I had a great thing going on with a girl who I loved one hell of a lot. I'm a nice guy, but I live life a little on the edge. Yeah, I'm impulsive, love to go on spontaneous road trips, drink all night, take recreational drugs and I'm not afraid to say what I think or do something crazy on the drop of a hat. But I'd never have dragged her into anything she didn't want to do. I'd skip my go on the blunt pass if she'd asked me to go easy, drive extra safe if she was worried, call her in the morning, etc etc. Around the start of the year, well, I won't mess you around here, I turned into a bit of a jerk. I didn't care so much about when I saw her, relished the times we'd argue so I could have a break and rip it with my friends, and hey... makeup sex, right? It got to a stage where she was getting pissed at me about it. And I was pissed at her for being pissed about it. Why couldn't I do my thing? There was a period of time where we decided to cool off; I'd agreed to call her when I'd decided, essentially whether we'd carry on our relationship, the way it had been before I turned into a dick or go our separate ways .I spent the week having an epic chillout, completely and utterly nonchalant cos let's face it, she was always going to take me back - she needed me, we had a deep emotional bond ad a great thing going. We'd even worked at the same restaurant for around a year without any tension or feeling overcrowded, or anything... About a week later she told me she was done waiting and to come see her the next day. I did, still partially high following a 2 hour sleep and a cold shower. I started to shake. I felt more nervous than I'd ever been my entire life. I was sitting there, 20 years old and melting into an emotional fucking wreck like a 6 year old girl. She explained how she felt we'd come to a natural end and it would be good for both of us if we just called it a day, having grown apart over the past couple of months. I forced out some reluctant tones of agreement, stood up, hugged her, kissed her on the cheek and left. Around another week later, she texted me asking for her stuff back. She said she'd send her sister round so I told her I'd be out. She told me to leave it by the door so I said it was forecast rain. Then she told me she was on her way back from work and she'd pick it up. I had to see here just once more... I had to tell her what i felt, what was going on in my head and beg her to take me back. By the time I was out the shower, she'd left another message saying she got tired waiting and went home. So I went round there. I gave her back a shoebox with all the things of hers I had. Again, she talked about stuff being for the better (wise to my intentions no doubt) and got the same affirmative mumbles in return. I got in my car and left. Then I cut up a guy infront of me on the road. Then I slammed on my fucking brakes and turned that sucker around. I went the fuck back there and laid my entire soul on the fucking line and begged her to take me back. I said I'd only agreed before because I thought it was what she wanted, I told her I wanted to right my wrongs and make her as happy as I possibly could. No dice. She gave me all the stuff which she didn't want out the aforementioned shoebox and said a third and final goodbye, along with the promise that she still cared about me and we wouldn't be one of those resentful ex - couples. A few weeks passed with me going through highs and lows about my new found loneliness / freedom / eternal solitude / lone wolf status. I was coming to terms with it well when that white and blue technological motherfucker facebook reared it's ugly head, and kindly informed me she was dating a cocaine - using, lsd - taking, woman using....dickhead. We'd both worked with him at the restaurant where she's promised me to 'not talk like they do about girls they've been with because it's fucking disgusting' and where he'd talk to the other guys about how great her tits were and once locked her in the walk in fridge which resulted in her crying. So now I'm pretty much one angry sonofabitch, and have this to conclusively respond to the thread title with this: Don't ever, ever change who you are in the name of finding a girl. I found mine by being Mr. Nice guy and we enjoyed 4 years (I was 16 when we started dating) together. I had some of the best times of my life with her. Don't ever do something that isn't you, that you aren't comfortable doing to impress someone, or live up to the stereotype that has been stamped on your head. Don't let your buddies push you into acting like a douche in the name of some girl. if you want her, cut the crap and go ask her out. If she doesn't want you, she's not worth your time or fucking effort. She wants the jerk, guess what, chances are down the line you'll end up thinking she's a fuckin' jerk. It's not about how hard you hit. It's about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward, that's how winning is done. Aaaand a few more things to round off the text - wall. Nice to see you back Kokane This is fucking adorable, congrats dude

If you were a woman, would you want to date a man that has the illusion that women disregard all "nice guys" thus only desiring "bad ones"? Yeah. I wouldn't either.