Journal Entry #735
We are no closer to finding the love of our life. Not even a half step. In fact at this moment as I type this entry to you, I sit in a well lit spot in the little coffee shop around the corner from us, us being me and my heart. And even with the lighting and the frequent traffic from fine ass men who love coffee flavored caffeine, I still sit here alone. I know you’re wondering whether I’ve actually approached one of them or at the very least smiled his way.
The answer would be no. That would just be taking trying to get a man too far. But shit, can’t they see me in all my gorgeousness, that I’m glowing, I mean more like shining now since these lights are so damn hot, and isn’t that enough for them to approach me? Dara told me I needed to get out more hence me coming here, since drinking coffee inside my home, sipping while I work, being perfectly fine for me. But here I am. Out. Not one approach.
I am beginning to wonder if I miscalcuted my need to have a significant other in my life with really just a need for significant penis because the last time I had a boyfriend, it proved I didn’t do well with them, them being the whole person, not penis. Penis I do just fine with.
I mean the beginning is always beautiful. That’s how they get you. Saying all the things you want to hear and you are barely hearing the words anyway cause you’re just so happy to be close to body heat for once and it does get cold in Pittsburgh. And if he smells good, you might as well forget it. But when a few discernible words make it past his sparkling white teeth, they are what you want to hear. “You’re different. I like that. Not like the rest. So brilliant, sexy, we should get each other, lets go to my place.” All those words were perfect and so I spread my legs and then my heart.
But what did different mean when 3 months in I got treated like the rest.
Excuses, that looked awfully close to lies. Inconsistency, smiles that don’t reach his eyes, more text messages and less calls, and then penis became more scarce and from what I know about that little/or hopefully big bugger, penis likes to get his action everyday if possible. So if I’m not getting it, someone else is and someone else is the one who is different right now.
That was my story with men. So truly, I shouldn’t be sitting here, hoping for a repeat. Right?
This is the only very bad thing about talking to you journal-friend-of-mine. You have no got damn answers!! I mean I’m spilling my guts here and telling you things don’t NO one need to really know. I mean last week I shared something you can’t tell a soul. You shouldn’t have even backed up that entry on the cloud. Nope.
But I share and you sit there blinking at me when I ask you a question. Fine. I won’t get answers from you and I need to head back home to do some real work. Trolling has been fruitless.
© Aja 2017
This short later appears in She’s Got Soul.