because screw you guys this game is great

The Real Reason It’s So Hard To Get Over The Fuckboy You Used To Date - take it from me.

We joke about how to spot them, how to avoid them and how to tell them to f*ck off. But what happens when you fall for them?

I fell for a f*ckboy in this ridiculous hook-up culture. It’s funny how that confession almost sounds like closure.

And I once joked about him being a f*ckboy.

It’s like it’s an explanation for why everything happened. It’s an excuse for you, f*ckboy, to act the way you did because that’s just the way it is. It’s the way it is until maybe one day, it’s not.

You’re the one who gets to choose which side you’ll stand on. I’m just supposed to accept that.

If I get hurt, I should’ve known better. If it works out? Well, that never really happens.

Guys like you get this label because you make us women angry. We fume about what you put us through. But mostly, we’re mad because — despite everything — we remember how happy you made us. That’s the worst part.

For some reason, even if it was only for a brief moment. it felt a lot like love.

I felt like I was worth it. Thank you. You made me feel amazing, and you continued to do so during the initial saga of whatever we were.

We never had a label, but I never thought we needed one. Wanting to be together, wanting to see you and hang out with you every chance I got was enough.

At least, for me it was. But soon, guys like you begin to assume women have impending expectations. So, you start finding excuses to avoid fulfilling them.

Deep down, we all know that if a person wants to be with someone, he or she will find a way. You knew this. Yet, you kept me around regardless. It’s as if you were teasing me about the future.

you made it look like you were doing me a favour. Telling me that I was too good for someone like you. Yes I was. And yes you were very honest about it.

The end was vague and irritating. It always is with these things. There was no real closure, and there were still few attempts at chit-chat, just so you could keep me holding on.

You convinced yourself that this spared my feelings. In actuality, the ambiguity tempted a possible future. Since we were never “officially” together, you rid yourself of any guilt. You left me frustrated for feeling so hurt, as if I didn’t have a right to be.

You diminished my confidence and self-worth. But you got off scot-free because of a technicality. You were in it for the chase. So, you left me branded in a pool of your conquests. I was the backup plan you secured in the case of emergency, and in case you happened to be home alone on week nights.

What’s worse is the fact that I let you do this. I foolishly thought I was worth it. I stupidly thought I was getting something out of it. but I wasn’t. I was always going to loose this game.

I’m writing to you because it’s taken me a while to accept who you really are and see the flaws in whatever this was. But really, I’m writing to you because I don’t think you’re a f*ckboy at all: I think you’re a coward.

Your fear of commitment is contradicted by your fear of ending up alone. You assume drunken conversations show you care. In actuality, they make you look spineless. You deep down were one of the most emotional people I have ever met. you also accidently let me in and shared everything with me. I thought that meant something. you couldn’t lie and you didn’t lie to me until you realised how deep in you were getting. and then that was it you were done. whatever this was.. was over.

You think nothing ended because “technically,” we were nothing from the start. But maybe I held onto that for a bit too long.

Losing you may have hurt, but I knew officially moving on and accepting the fact that we were over was going to be terrifying. Unlike you, I’m no coward.

It’s no use holding on to maybes and “oh, but that one time.” It’s scary to let go. But when I did, I felt relief. After telling myself you weren’t worth it over and over again, I finally believed it too.

I don’t forgive you, but I’m over it. I don’t hate you. I’ve just moved on from how I felt.


At last.

Good guys may finish last, but great girls just get screwed over. It’s only when we’ve had enough do we understand why this needed to happen.

Playing it safe, trying to be cool and keeping distance all just waste time. Refusing to partake in this game doesn’t mean we’ll end up alone. It just means we have standards.


Finally, we’ll learn that our good guys won’t care about what seems cool. They won’t care about excuses or the chase because great women are worth it. I’m worth it. I just needed you to show me that.

I still can’t help but wonder who you’ll eventually end up with. Is it a woman you change for, or the only woman who’s left? I hope that one day, you’ll realize the rarity of our connection and value it. Thank you for teaching me to find someone who will.



Okay - this answers some questions for us.  Lots of fanfics speculated that Jack was one of the five or that Shitty knows about Jack being not straight, but now we know that he doesn’t know.  Sure he is drunk, but if he knew, he wouldn’t have said something because he would have known it might out Jack if the person he thought Jack was dating was a guy.  But since he thinks it’s a girl, he doesn’t hesitate to challenge him in public (and like others said, when he finds out boy is he gonna get it on his heteronormative behavior!)

Also, don’t think Lardo knows..  Why?  Because she is chirping Shitty not about what he was saying, but that he can’t hold his liquor anymore…”Harvard made you weak!”  Combine with look on her face (sadness at the passing of a once great bro), says to me that she isn’t rescuing Jack as much as chirping Shitty.

We also know that everyone assumed Jack’s sexual conquests of puck bunnies and Camilla etc., but we know from Bitty’s first Screw that Jack went home alone b/c Camilla had early game (it’s in the printed book of Year 1 as an extra strip) so he quite possibly let the guys assume things without them actually being true.

Good news behind all of this?  Jack is more open and honest with Bitty than he is with anyone.  Shitty, Lardo, parents, or Kent.  He kept pieces of himself closed around them but when it’s just him and Bitty, we see totally open, vulnerable, and loving Jack.  

This boy!!!