Picky Bitch

What do you reckon it takes to fall in love with someone? I don’t know, I haven’t been in love for almost 14 years, and I think I’ve forgotten the emotion.

I’m so fucking picky. Why? It’s like something changed in me during that whole shit period when I was strung out over PHG (motherfucker, still!).

Something fundamental in the way I see myself and my relationships with men has changed.

I suppose I shouldn’t complain, because I’d  been crying out inside for a change.

So as much as I say PHG is a motherfucker, the turth is, I really have him to thank for my self esteem where men are concerned now. You know, a definite idea of what the fuck I ain’t taking.

I don’t know what happened to me on Saturday night, but the ramifications are reverberating through my psyche.

I literally got tired of being in England and not tapping no quality penis.

Jammin’ J, who I have  to admit is persistent and been a perfect (almost) gentleman, is not a bad fella. When we spoke for the first time in about two weeks last Friday, he was glad to hear from me. He said he knew I was busy, but he would like me to make some time for him over the weekend becaused he ‘needed to see me’.

I agreed and it was on for the self same Saturday night I mentioned a few blog posts earlier.

When we confirmed on Saturday night, I had reached this point where I was like, “How could it possibly hurt to take a little totie on the side?”

So I shaved my legs, made sure my place was tidy and creamed my skin. But when he got there, I don’t what it was I just didn’t want to go through with it. I think YMK has spoiled me and now it’s like I can’t brush unless I feel close to someone. It is too that I don’t have an atavistic attraction to the lad.

But there are others.

The guy at the ticket counter in Paddington, I haven’t seen again and he never called, but I have looked for him when I go to buy my tickets.

Then there’s this absolutely beautiful man who I saw on the bus to work from the train station a couple of days ago.

When I saw him, my insides rumbled and I went ‘I want that!’ But here’s the thing… he looks like a taller, more mature looking version of YMK. Same creamy dark skin, same beautiful eyes, same bald head.

I saw him yesterday as well, but he didn’t get on the bus. This morning I think I saw him, but can’t be sure.

I am definitely looking for someone, but I haven’t met or found him yet. I’m also not trying exceptionally hard to find what it is I am looking for.

That morning on the bus, I barely made eye contact with the dude, only stole looks at him. Here’s the thing: caught his ass doing it to me a couple of times.

Shucks, I just wish he’d get in the damn bus so I can eye him up some more.

With all these possibilities around, I’ve turned into a picky woman.

I want to take my time; I want to choose right, and anyone stepping forward has to play the game by my rules, because I’ve played by men’s rules a long time…. men don’t like you if you’re nice. Men only like you if you’re a little bitchy or a lot bitchy. They say they don’t but play the game any other way and you get fucked over by them.

Paritally, I’m sure this is about a ruthlessness I’ve been submerging in my consciousness… I make too many excuses, live with too many crafted illusions, accept too many reasons why I am not number one, why I am not worth risking all for.

I guess I just don’t want to do that anymore. It’s time for my game plan to change. It’s time for me to play like I want to win.

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thegoddessroom

The Vault

sungoddess

mermaid, dayo's mama, water priestess, writer, web developer, omo yemoja, dos aguas, obsessive reader, sci-fi fan, trini-bajan, combermerian, second life, music, music, music!