Sometimes I ask myself why do I do the things I do.
Why I think the way I think.
Blow off attempts of affection towards me by some.
Keep my hands 'full' and keep a selection of men.
Line them up just like shoes in a closet.
You can't wear them all, but when you are ready for a pair, they are within arm's reach. I don't see anything wrong with that honestly. I call it "exercising my options."
I was thinking about it today though...
Why do I act this way???
Then I remembered why.
I remembered all the calls that he was supposed to make and didn't.
I remembered all the dates that were promised that didn't happen.
I remembered all the times I had to 'imagine' being with him because he chose to do other things instead of being with me.
I remembered all the times that he minimized my feelings and tried to make me feel like I was being the pain in the azz.
Damn, all I did was like you. But for some reason it seemed as if that was a crime.
So when I ask myself why I do what I do...
I remembered the time we had sex and then you got up and left, giving me whatever excuse you thought I would believe.
I remembered all of the promises and how many of them were actually kept.
I remembered all of the let downs. All of the lies.
I remembered doing things - nasty things - for him. Whatever and whoever.
Because I was young and dumb.
When I ask myself why do I think this way, I remembered feeling him.
Kissing him and wanting more.
But I couldn't have more because he wouldn't allow it.
He was in control.
And he knew it.
Everything was all about him.
"I'm busy doing this. I'm busy doing that."
Like I'm not busy too?
The difference was that I would make time for him and he refused to reciprocate.
All I heard was "Me, me, me, me, me!"
"I'm doing my thing."
"Trying to get my hustle on."
Nothing about what I had to do mattered.
Nothing about what I wanted mattered.
In fact, nothing about ME mattered at all.
I remembered how I would sit back and wonder about the whole thing.
Asking where I went wrong. Over and over and over again until my head hurt.
But I already knew the answer.
I took a risk. Hell anyone you meet is a risk to be honest. You can't predict how someone will act. How they might be towards you after the googly eyes stop being googly.
It's all a game of chance.
But too many times I went for it and threw my heart out there anyway.
Just for him to stomp on it.
Then kick it in the road to get run over by cars.
I just got tired of it all.
(takes sip from a glass of wine)
So why feel like that again?
Why torture myself?
I like men. I really do.
But f*ck this emotional shyt.
This 'feeling' for him shyt.
Cuz all it does is suffocate me.
Takes my mind off track and has me thinking crazy about myself.
Thinking that somehow I'm just not...
That I'm just "NOT."
Grrr. See what I mean?
"Feelings" will get you all f*cked up. Have you thinking bad about ya self.
You lose common sense. You forget who you are.
You see the train coming, but 'feelings' make your azz jump right in front of it.
"I'm doing this because I love him!"
Then the train runs you over. And then backs up and runs over you again.
Nah that's okay. I've had enough of that.
(takes a final sip of wine, then looks at the bottom of the empty glass)
I'm not bitter.
I get kinda tired of being hurt, ya know.
I just got lost for a little while. But I'm getting back on track.
I just gotta remind myself why I do what I do.
Why I think how I think.
No more bruised feelings.
No more broken heart.
No more picking myself up off the ground.
No more questioning myself and what I have to offer.
CUZ I AM WAAAAY TOO FLY FOR THAT.
I decided long ago that I ain't standing in front of no mo' trains. And if I have to be this way and think this way in order to prevent that, then so be it.
The less I open myself up to feelings the less bullshyt I have to deal with. And guess what? It ain't meant for anyone else to understand, critcize, or even cosign. It's my life and I gotta do what I think is best for me. And getting caught up in some dude right now ain't it.
Pretty Brown was back. And now he's not? Guess that's why I wrote this.
Moving again. Found out the noisy neighbor got locked up for sexually assaulting somebody.
Therapist said I should stop callin' the Match.com date munchkin. Because then I'll always think of him that way. I'll leave alla that to talk about another day though.