Here’s the scenario:
does it really matter where we met??? and we clicked. He was cute. Tall and dark just the way I like ’em. I told him I was single and wanted to get his pipe remain single, that I expected nothing from him. I mean, I’m the reason Ne-Yo wrote “Miss Independent”. I got my own ride, my own crib, make my own money and buy my own jewelry. Yeah yeah yeah that was a lame explanation but you get my point right?
After the prerequisite three dates (who said it had to be three dates anyhow?!), he laid down that pipe. And though it wasn’t mind-blowing, I’d rate him an 8 outta 10, given that it was our first time and all. And he was eager to please, waking me up
rolls eyes in the middle of the night for a second and yet again, a third time, even though I’d have enjoyed it better had he let me sleep.
Fast forward a couple of weeks and we’re on that text flow, things are cool, he sends me the occasional “I miss you and can’t wait to
fuck see you again”, yadda yadda yadda. Now, you know me. I told him from the gate that I didn’t want anything serious. I don’t catch feelings. I’m a grown woman and ain’t looking to get cuffed. So there’s really no reason for us to “get to know each other better”. We vibe, we’re cool, sex will get better the more we sex and that’s just that, right?
My BBM goes off and lo’ and behold, there’s “Marcus” with the question of ALL questions, “So I gotta ask…..what are you looking for and what do you want?”
*screeches to a halt*
Come again?!?! Say what??
Did you miss the part when I said I wasn’t looking for a relationship? Were you listening when I said I didn’t want anything serious?
It got me thinking. Do we, as women, miscommunicate our intentions and feelings to the opposite sex? Or is it because we’re the “weaker” sex and usually end up naming our unborn children and planning our wedding and hoping the Marcus’ of the world end up falling head over heels in love with us? Is he afraid I’m going to fall in love with him?
I don’t know about your other women and what wrong they did you or how that chick from the club ended up being the psycho-ass stalker misinterpreting every BBM status and asking for your Facebook password because “We need to trust each other” bullshit. I don’t care that the lady who approached you in the International Foods aisle at the grocery store said she wanted to take you home that night and ended up asking you to move in with her.
Yes, when it comes to emotions, I will admit we’re the weaker sex. We’re lovey and touchy and cute and just all around super sweet
gross gushy moistness. We ooh and ahh and go ga-ga over your manly muscles. And every little princess has that prince-in-a-castle dream.
But at my age and status, I really have no other intention except for the one I MAKE KNOWN. Did I go about it the wrong way? Did I say something wrong? Could I have perhaps, chosen a different set of directives? Maybe flashcards would have gotten my point across?
I’m baffled. I don’t get what he doesn’t get. How hard is it for a woman to get some good ol’ romping in the sack without having to worry about what he’s thinking?!?