date a bad boy

so i really want to date a badass. Idk random urge. I find their uniqueness very attractive and want to date a cute one. Now changing one would be my ultimate goal…like on 10 Things I Hate about You..the sensitive badass! i would keep him forever.
SEXY!

i have always been atracted to bad boys….......
at age 15-17 pretty much every guy i dated had some kind of record( weather it was for drugs, fighting cops, assault ect..) ansd if no record where players and cheaters
though they never treated me badly i found i couldnt trust them
they where consantly messing up in life and we where heading very very diffent ways one was always lieing to me about his drug use
another i thought i had reformed and gotten engaged to…..
possably one of the stupidest things i had ever done he ended up sleeping with my best when i left town i was heart broken in the worst way didnt leave bed started self abuseing (over that stuff now)
if you must, go for the reformed bad boys
where yes there tuff and have a record but they dont do that stuff anymore
i am currently with my reformed bad boy we had dated back in his bad boy days but it didnt go very far a year later we got back together he’s had alot of stuff happen thats made him change his ways his life is getting back on track he’s trying to get custody of his daughterr he has goals and plans and thats what i really love about him

...Older, alcoholic, gorgeously sexy and a heart breaking mother f**ker!

To lend a cliche; play with fire, expect to get burnt. But hey, now I have something to compare all my other break-ups with at least.

i think that all the best lookin lads r the bad ones, although the way i see it is the’s bad bad n the’s the ones that like to live life more a less on the edge but know how to love their girl & look after their girl & thats the kind for me

Not only did I date him I married him. I was 19 and Oh how I loved him, I thought I could make him happy, settle him down, be his excitement and adventure. After 20 years I couldn’t do it anymore, with no children and realizing he had been living off me for years, I finally left. Because I supported him for years he got to stay in my house with our furniture and our dog. I lost it all. He died last year of Hep C and left all of my things to his family. Go find a nice man, I finally did!

...between ages 15 and 19.

He really was quite sweet when he was clean and sober: funny, gentle, kind to children and animals. And it was that side of him that hooked me. I wasn’t looking for a “bad boy” at all. I emphatically didn’t want to repeat my mother’s mistakes. (My biological father was a handsome, charming, smart ne’er-do-well with a staggering array of compulsions that included drinking, gambling, and womanizing – and those are just the ones I know about! My stepfather didn’t drink or gamble, but he too was an unrepentant womanizer who couldn’t hold a job.)

When I finally realized that my teen beau couldn’t be “reformed” by the love of a good woman, I extricated myself from that relationship – mind you, not until I’d suffered through what, in hindsight, was a severe clinical depression that rested on thinking that all our troubles were somehow my fault, and wound up dropping out of university in my second year (perhaps my biggest regret).

I’m pleased to note that I never again dated a bad boy (or even a merely bad-for-me boy) for longer than it took to figure out his true colours: 3 weeks maximum. I deserve better, and over the years I’ve been privileged to spend serious time with some genuinely spectacular men – mature, emotionally literate, hard-working, and compulsion-free (as well as funny, gentle, and kind to children and animals). Even so, I once calculated that I kissed at least 5 frogs for every prince I connected with.

As for that original bad boy: he died a couple of years ago, just shy of his 52nd birthday. We’d stayed in touch even after our split (I’m not one to cut important people completely out of my life unless they hurt me badly). I helped him out whenever I could – with small loans, an apartment sublet, job referrals, and research on affordable housing for the disabled – but only when he was in a “good boy” period.

The woman he eventually married became one of my closest friends, and although she ultimately left him for the same reasons I had (drinking, drugs, endless trouble with the law), she and I were both at his side during his final 7 weeks of life.

Being a bad boy didn’t exactly kill him – he had Huntington’s Disease, a vicious hereditary condition. But a last binge may have tipped him over the edge. Probably he preferred the relatively quick decline he experienced to the idea of lingering for another 10 years in a nursing home, unable even to feed himself.

Would I do it over again? Hmmm. I have mixed feelings about that. Being with him for those four years meant being unavailable to several fine fellows who would otherwise, I think, have made much better long-term prospects. And I’ve already noted that our miserable last year together resulted in my leaving school – a wise decision under the circumstances, but one that I’ve since rued many times over.

On the other hand, I might not have known several of the aforementioned spectacular men had I not left school, because I met them through my work.

All in all, I’ve come down on the side of “Worth doing” – if only for the life lessons that I learned early enough to do me some good.

see my comment..

ouch, sounds like some of guys have had a hard time!
but let me tell you, if you find the right one! it makes everything worth it! risky business is always exciting!
if you find a total sh**head, then i feel sorry for you! my current boyfriend is bad but not stupid. keeps me on my toes anyhow! and so far im loving every minute of it!

If you do not value yourself at all then go for it.

I managed to whip him into spinelessness. That’s not what I wanted!! Plus, what I thought was rebelliousness turned out to be immaturity and laziness in a big way. I’m now dating a totally preppy grad school student, and I love the way he stands up for himself. We’re equals, and I couldn’t ask for more.