This guy who thought he wanted to get to know me said to me once, "You are hilarious. I need to find you a man."
And I responded with, "I know right?! Few can handle this. Just. So. You. Know."
He, in turn, "I am sure that It. Can. Be. Handled."
Cut to him months later cutting me out of his life because I'm "too much drama."
As if anyone with any fraction of a brain can't figure that out the second they hear me speak.
I AM DRAMA!!
And he was fully aware of this fact, as they all are.
Men just think they want what intrigues them without realizing getting too close to such fascination will challenge them and scare them and thus overwhelm them.
Nah, they don't want someone i-n-t-e-r-e-s-t-i-n-g they want someone they can control.
Someone who says "yes massuh" and "no massuh" when they want a warm body in their bed and then subsequently don't want them actually making a sound.
Ohmygoodness! Was I breathing too loudly? Shame on me for being so noisy, I know you already came and now that's my cue to shut the fuck up.
Honestly, the nerve of some women.
Selfish bitches.
But alas, I am not a mere beige puppet, molded at the hands of some man.
I have a great big mouth of my own and a savvy way with words.
And anyone unable to handle The Resa Prose needs to be purged from my friends list.
No sexy photos or witty status updates for you, sir! HaHA!
But what was I supposed to say?
I'm sorry for having needs?
I'm sorry for accidentally stumbling upon your scrawny ass in a crowd of hundreds?
I'm sorry for imagining there is some unwritten code of conduct that prevents persons laying claim under the "Friend" label --when they're through laying under The Resa--that warrants I am treated with at least a minimal fragment of decency and respect?
If I am not worth your consistency can I at least be worth your kindness?
All I want is what I have coming to me.
All I want is my fair share.
The uproariously laughable insanely comical laughing my curvacious ass out loud fact of this debacle?
It would take VERY LITTLE to make me VERY HAPPY.
They act as though I asked for their penis to be extracted and dipped in gold for my insatiable needs to be met.
But all I want is a gesture!
Not THAT gesture, you arrogant fucktard.
Just some small attempt of affection, some teensy tiny ripple of effort to show that why yes, I do, biggest heart of anyone that they know, most unique and beautiful personality that I embody MATTER TO THEM!!!
Jesus.
It's fucking exhausting.
It's exhausting screaming before deaf ears.
Earth to Reese!!
They're not listening.
They're only interested in getting their own rocks off.
God, this would have been so much easier if we'd just remained fuck buddies.
THAT I never get complaints about.
He certainly enjoyed my big mouth in that arena.
But you know what?
I AM one clever woman.
And he is gonna miss my fantabulous self the second it all hits him.
Because I'm fucking brilliant.
And he threw it all away.
Kudos, love, my hats off to you.
My clothes, on the other hand, ain't ever gonna be on your bedroom floor again.
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