He said cya l8a


There’s something about the guys that kick flip their way into your heart — you could call it a type. I had a type, and it was riding dirty. He was a bad boy with some bad attitude. A bad, bad boy. So why did his affection hurl me to the curb like a kick flip gone wrong?

Was it the thrill of the chase, the potential power to change him or do some girls just like to get their hearts broken? It’s like there's a certain right of passage to be attracted to the ‘wrong guy’ at some stage, the one we will forever proclaim 'got away'. But did he get away or did he do you a damn favour?

It was three years ago between swigs of beer and half blunted cigarettes that I found myself snogging this boy at a party. It was one of those times I was foolishly pressured to be someone I’m not. I was back from the city and I’d embraced a new lifestyle, a new personal style. I had pink hair and was dressed in a matching pink fur coat, yes - I did look cool. But I looked too cool, too cool that expectations of me were beyond my comfort level.

Now I'm not a smoker, I despise it, but for this one night I was, and looking back it sickens me that I didn't have faith in my actual way of being to get the guy I liked. Instead, I continued this character that was appealing. I drank the right drinks, laughed at the right things and pretended to be a chill girl. I-am-not-a-chill-girl. Chill girls keep it casual, chill girls don't care, chill girls don't worry about a thing. I, on the other hand, don't do casual: I do care and I worry, like - a lot. 

This fling of mine lasted awhile, in and out of weekend shenanigans that left me subtly wishing for more until summer was over and so were we. But that didn't stop me falling for the next boy cracking open a diesel on a Friday night and giving me the nod from across the room. Whoever said history never repeats, lied. 

Before you know it you're having the most beyond-average valentines sponsored by the petrol station down the road at 2am before you realise you're not the only one getting hit by the phone. Goodbye my lust-er, goodbye my friend, pick up your board and get gone again.

My mum would say I'm better than that, and I am. I was a fool, a fool in lust with a skater boy. And as you can see it wasn't the first time, there's been more than one. More than one since, does this girl never learn her lesson? SO what is it? Is it because they're just so on trend? 

For me clothing is attractive, it gets me going. I ain't got no type, but well dressed boys is what I tend to like, you know? So when I began reading about the undeniable connection between fashion girls and skater boys, I became quite shook. Had I based all my past infatuations off a pair of pants?

For others it's the rebellion, the fighting and yearning for the same affection he gives his skate board. They treat us mean, and we stay keen. Or maybe Avril Lavigne is to blame, instilling us with this ultimate skate god who adores the girl only to be left heartbroken, we've learnt it was her fault, not his.

Whatever it is, don't fawn after someone that doesn't deserve your worth and surely, surely, don't base you affections on the brand of his pants or the beverage in his hands, because when he's 30 - will that still be cute? Let's stop dropping to our knees whenever we hear the clatter of wheels skkrrttt-ing down the streets, because 7/10 times he says he'll catch you on the flip side - he won't.


* I know all skater boys are not as referred to above, and this article is written from a very specific perspective. 

*Illustration cover inspired by unknown artist/pinterest



Hannah Jensen