We May As Well Talk About It
It's time to discuss how a woman so used to being alone does anything else. It ain't easy.
Y’all know I am the first one to say “girl, if you can do better alone, then damn, do better alone”.
But what about the flip side? What do you do when you meet someone who wants only the best for you? Who wants to help you achieve your dreams? Who wants to love you for all of the unattractive you are when you’re moody, or without your make up? What about on your fat days?
Well, if you’re me, you fuck it all up.
You completely fuck it up.
You refuse to just let go of absolute and total control of every little detail of your life in order to be flexible and just cling to your little power trip.
You pretend as though people like this come along every day, and there will be another one to pop up and change your life tomorrow.
You run. You run like a frightened child. You just run back home with your tail between your legs and pretend as though having conversations with your dogs are the equivalent to really feeling something for someone.
That’s what I said, Bitchfaces. I got scared, and I ran.
If you wanted something to give you a little giggle, know that I was completely at a loss for words, and I ran away.
That’s it. That’s all I’m going to say on it. Judge me, I deserve it.
I have no sage advice or words of wisdom for you, sista BUT I do have coffee, ice-cream and other wonderful balms for the "running away from romantic shit" blues...
I think I smell a rom-com ending