Keep it Movin....

Last week, I called one of my ex-menfriends.
He had been instant messaging me for a week.
He had no other way of contacting me. I was curious, so I called him.
Now all the sudden he wants to get married.
Ummmmm.
to me.

It's crazy. 5 years ago, I wudda married him in a minute. In fact, I had visions of our wedding.
Of us. Of a family with him.
But things went terribly wrong. I took a step back and looked at my situation with him.
It was not what I wanted. I loved him hard and fast. I fell out of love the same way.

Many denials. His.
Many nasty words. Mine.
Many tears. Mine.
When all was said and done, I hated him.
As much, if not more than I ever loved him.

I don't understand what makes him think that I could ever feel the same way about him...
why would he think that is a possibility. I don't even think I like him as a person. And if he got to know me...the real me... he would not like me either. I am trying to make him see that. I am trying to help him understand that I am not the same person that he dated. The person that he dated was not even me. I changed my thought process when we were together.
I changed who I was.

We started dating right after baby daddy.
He was a breath of fresh air for me.

Because...
I was tired of fighting.
Tired of everything being an issue.
Tired of being by myself.

So I became this person...
This person that would do anything for him.
This person that never complained.
This person that would put up with anything.

I stopped smoking. I stopped drinking.
I stopped cursing. I stopped acting a fool.
All the things that make me who I am.

When we spoke, he mentioned getting together..
I told him that he would never like or accept the person that I am.
What I do is everything that he hates. Who I am is everything that he despises.

I do smoke. I do drink. I do curse. I do act a fool.
And I fuck. And that's just what I do.

He is not ready for the person that I am. That I will always be.
He could never love me. Not ever like I would need him to.
Not then. Not now. Not ever.

I hate how I feel about him

I have a big attitude problem today.

And I got it from him.

I am starting to react to the way that he treats me sometimes.
He ignores my calls. He ignores me. He just don't seem to like me.
That hurts me.

And I hate the way that I feel about him.
I hate that I love him, but I hate even more that I hate him sometimes.

The specifics of his moody-ass are unimportant. The fact is..he is moody.
That is really just him. And I know this. It's just his character defect.

Fuck it. Atleast I dont have to buy a new bed.

Now. I just have to get over him. For good.

It's all about the bed

I was walking out of work the other night. My cell rings...

"Hey..where you at?..." he asks.

"Just leaving work...where you at?..." I reply.

"Just leaving work..." he says.

"What are your plans for tonight?..." I want to know.

"Going home..then I gotta go make a run..." he says, Not being secretive at all.
I know where he is going.

"...and then to my house?..." I chuckle.
He does too.

"ummmmm. maybe. It depends on what time I get back on this end..
it might be late...and I'm tired!"

"That's okay..you can go to sleep when you get to my house..." I laugh out loud at my self, knowing that's just bullshit.

He also laughs.
Then he says the part that hurts my feelings. Kind of.

"I don't get any sleep at your house, baby...."

Me: "Huh?" "Why not?"

I half laugh. because I don't get any sleep when he is at my house. I sleep all up on and under him. He moves a lot. A LOT! Constantly. Everytime he moves, I wake up, too. I usually rub his body and he falls back asleep, and so do I. But in the morning, I feel like I didn't sleep at all.
So, I know what he is talking about.

"First off..you be waking a brutha up at 4 in the morning...that's the first thing.."
We both laugh.

"And your bed. That waterbed. It's uncomfortable. I toss and turn all night..I hate it!"
"...but that's another story, for another time, I guess..."


This is not the first time that I have heard this. Someone talking shit about my bed. Some people have a hard time with it. I love my bed. It's warm, and comfy. Not the best for sex..but it's something that you get used to. I have had various waterbeds, and for the last 20 or so years, that's all I've ever owned. I have the aquired taste needed. Not everyone does.

But damn..is it that serious? I have never been in that position, not being comfortable in someone else's bed. Is that something that would make someone not want to come sleep with me a few nights a week?

The Waterbed.
Is my bed the reason that I don't have a man? LOL! Maybe. But "the other one" never complains. He is in my bed a lot! and never once has he talked shit about it.
I know that you gotta have a flava for a waterbed. They are not for everyone. And maybe I am ready to move on from that. I have been looking for a new bed. I think I have found what I want. It's right here!
I hope he's ready for it! No excuses after that.

My feelings are still hurt. Damn.

Is she black?

Ok.

My writing style cracks me up. When I write, it tends to sound exactly how I talk.
In the situation that I am in. At that time.
Which most of the time is me acting a fool. I use a lot of slang..A LOT of it!
I am not confused. Really.

So tell me why. Why. Why I was looking at the "who links to me" links today, someone nominated me for an award. I cracked the fuck up.
A Black Weblog Award. ~~Go see..I am there~ in black and white!


Did I miss something? LOL!
Fill me in, if I did.

~I love ya'all!~

Ya ain't gotta go home.....

I played softball with my friend Marvin last night. Sexy man was there, playing on another field. After our game, I walked over to where Sexy Man was playing. He walked over to where I was standing. As hard as it was, I barely looked up. I pretended to be interested in the game. I shot him a quick sideways glance, never turning my head to look at him. I looked back at the field.

I'm a bitch.

This is kind of the way things have been going lately, with us. Well, not really...mostly because I have not really seen much of him. He has a lot of crap going on at work, and it is really stressing him out. He is grumpy. Most of the time. Almost All of the time. Even to me. I try not to take it personally. It's hard. I have nothing to do with his work issues. I try to understand.

He pisses me off.

So after his game was over, me, him, and the boy are walking to our cars. The boy gets in the car and starts playing his game. He knows I will be a minute.
Sexy man and I are talking about the game. He is telling me about work. No wonder he is so stressed. And nasty. He has a lot of responsibility. He is held responsible for things that are not his fault. It's frustrating.

Fuck that.

He strips in the parking lot. Only I can see him. I raise my eyebrow. He changes into basketball shorts. It's 9 pm and he tells me he is playing a game of basketball. I hand him the rest of my Gatorade. He just takes it. I laugh. It trips me out how we communicate. Body language, and facial expressions. He tells me he has to go. I tell him to call me when he is done...he knows what I mean.. I mean "come over when you are done" He hugs up on me.
He rolls out.

Damn. I can't stay mad at him.

When I get home, I get in the shower. Marvin and the other guys on the team roughed up your girl. I am in pain. My legs hurt. Maybe my back too. Or is it my neck. They worked me over.
And they laugh about it. They think that shit is funny. Marvin especially. He plays short stop or third. I play first base. I tell him not to treat me like a punk. I can play some softball. And it took him a minute to realize that. But damn.

My body aches.

I take a long, hot shower. The boy is watching cartoons. In the shower I hear the phone ringing..again and again. And Again. Jesus Christ..What the fuck? WHO DOES THIS? Who rings someone's phone like that? I feel like getting out of the shower just to act a fool.
The boy never answers the phone. He doesn't give a damn about who is calling.
He wants no part of the drama on the other end.

The boy is hilarious.

When I get out of the shower, I look at the caller ID. No big surprise. It's the other one. And I assume that he wants to come over. I think for a minute. And I decide that I would rather sleep alone than with him tonight. "The other one" is too much work. Too much drama sometimes. I was tired, and I wanted someone that understands my need to chill..
And besides..in my craziness, I feel like my sexy man is coming over. I just have that feeling. It gives me a chill. He smells so good. Not cologne good. Not soap good. Just good. I love sleeping with him-- he lets me do whatever I want. He lets me lay all over him, all underneath him. He don't care.

And I love it!

I get out of the shower and get dressed. Sweats and a t-shirt.
I lay across my bed and call sexy man. Voice mail. Shit. I guess he is still playing basketball.
It's only 10..so..yeah, probably still playing ball.
My girlfriend comes over, and makes some coffee.
I hear a knock at the door. Who the HELL?
I open the door. There stands "the other one" ...
"Oh, you can't answer your phone"...I ignore him. Whatever motherfucker.
He rode his motorcycle over. He wants to take my girlfriend for a ride..He is all up in her grill.
I guess he wanted me to act a fool. But we all know that's not an option.

Idiot.

So, he is hanging out and talking to my girlfriend. This bitch is grinnin all up in his face. Whatever. I didn't invite his ass over anyway. Sexy man calls. He says he wants to come by. He said he is tired. He said that he has been in a bad mood. (no shit!) But he is pretty sure that if he comes over, I can make him feel better. He should be 'round my way in 15 minutes.

Ummm. did anyone forget that "the other one" is still here?


"Ok..ya'all gotta get the fuck out!" I said to him and my girlfriend pointing to the door.
"Ya ain't gotta go home, but ya gotta get the fuck up outta here!"

LMAO! I am such a bitch.