Men?
The aspiration of men in my life tears me into the intentions of whether becoming single or not. I check my phone constantly for someone to text or call me throughout the day. Why is it I’m hoping for someone, someone to care for me when I could care less for them?
I love dating, the thought of innocence and no strings attach, but when things get closer, I run. I run and I hide and I make them think they are pushing themselves away from me, but in reality, I’m shoving them. I have managed to push every good man away, and yet they still linger in my phone book. I send out a couple text messages and can have one man taking me out on a date for the next week, while I’m calling another one up for conversation. It’s a scheme, no sexual reason but rather a comfort. I can’t get hurt if I’m the one playing the field, rolling the dice and making them think I take chances for love.
Chances don’t not come my way, but rather I give chance a sense of illusion, the thought that I could be their one and only girl. First glance you would never see this monster inside of me, instead, you see a lonely blonde college student who spends time in the library and works with children. I love to drink, cheap wine and beer, it puts a smile on my grinning face as I wear crazy outfits that no one would wear . I am unique with an outgoing sweetness, but lurks the dark side of hurting others and wanting more.
More? I want a guy to bring me a sense of overbearing romance and dash me away like only lovers hear in songs. But I am afraid if I look for it, it won’t be what I want. I’m always adding and subtracting of what I want from a guy, and yet, the ones that come I have bitter taste for in less than a month. Is it possible I’m just holding out for the one? Or, a sense that I’m never satisfied and will hurt all who dare to love me.
I am young, with a youthful spirit and beauty that shines, I am living my twenties and my friend, it is glamorous. I wish not to fall in love but rather guys notice my young beauty before one day I am too old to flirt and bat my eyes at every gentleman that walks my way. The one day, when men don’t fall at my feet or compliment all my outer characteristics is the day, I dread. I am looking forward to grow old, but I will wait for that day when I feel comfortable to hold hands with that one man.
I am a great friend and loving person. I flirt and I don’t cheat for that I always stay single. I broke someone heart, crushed it to the floor and left it to bleed, never once the thought to come back and clean up my mess. But don’t you worry, it happened to me.
I told my girlfriends I felt love, I thought love, I cried because for the first time I thought I met a man who I wasn’t afraid to be with. I saw all the flaws and imperfections and I accepted them, trust me, he had too many cons. Sparks flew when he texted me morning and night. I always had butterflies when his ringtone would blast out while a picture of us were shown on the collar ID. This was a romance that I oddly wanted, nothing fancy but rather just romantic company. What did this fine fellow do? The least expected.
The Heartbreak? Everyone saw when I tried to hide it, I cried. When I thought I was alone I cried and scream in anger and pain would hit my chest. I didn’t want to eat and every thought of him left a knot in my throat. My love turned into hate and hate turned into resentment. I started to dream about him, every night my dreams were detailed and we lived in happiness and I would awake to see it wasn’t real. He was holding onto the arms of another woman while I was dreaming an unrealistic world about our lives. Crazy? I would say so, I would pray to God begging him to give me dreams of anything, even dreams of murder, because I saw the dreams of us become a nightmare.
Were still friends and I am reminded of him every day, how can somebody you spend so short of time is the one you crave? I could never tell my friends the truth, although they give me hints they already know from the way I talk about him. We will never be together again, but nor will I ever want that sense of love again, for that I built a wall for me and you may not crush it.
So, until then I give you a clear warning, don’t cross my path and don’t ask to hold my hand for that you may be my next victim. But sometimes, just sometimes..the tables can be turned.
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