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.