Just some sunshine in mind. Looking fine as ever. She got a mouth on her –wooo — she put some words together. Sometimes make a nigga wanna leave, but when we make up….Jay-Z & R. Kelly,  “Break Up”


      I’ve been a bitch. It happens sometimes, right? For some reason –one beyond your control– everything he does is irritating. I mean… not really irritating on a larger scale. Whatever it is, it wouldn’t have ticked you off on a normal day, but today… that was all it took. I had a smart response for everything. Aggravated with everything. There was once a time when I’d have let this control me. But I was consciously trying to be nice. Consciously debating myself, trying to determine if I really had a reason to be upset. & this is where my “Unstable Creature” characteristics kicked in. I’d get pissed off and think, Why am I pissed off, come to realize it was for no reason and I shouldn’t treat him like this, so I switch over to nice. And perhaps too nice as I’m trying to counteract myself and my current attitude.
        It’s harder than you think –Being nice. It takes a lot of extra effort that I’d have otherwise reserved for myself.   I’m going through my own thing right now. My mind is trying to figure out my own life and how I feel about certain situations that, truly, make me upset. And these sentiments get transferred over into whatever else Im doing –unfortunately him — and I take it out on him, too. But it’s not his fault. It’s not his fault I came back from a weekend (or day) away upset, confused and lost. Thats something I have to handle. But, ususally, I handle it by being a bitch. *shrugs* And if Im in a bad mood –and alone– I might just soak my feet. Do my hair. Do a little yoga. I only got two of those three yesterday and, goddammit, I could use some yoga. But that’s not his fault either. I knew I was a little peeved when I invited him over. Although he was nothing but a sweetheart. He gave up the Heat vs Bulls game to lay in bed with me and watch The Food Network. (To which he told me, “If I’m not here, and you’re watching TV, this is what you should be watching,” because I’ve been having ummm… trouble… in the kitchen, lately.) His presence, although secretly irritating, was only there because I had requested it. And because he, for some odd reason, tries to give me what I want. 
         Good guys don’t deserve that. & if you ever, in the middle of a bitch fit, think this, you should try to change how you’re acting. That’s what I’m attempting to do. Yesterday was the second time I was in that mood around him, but it was the first time I watched him be so unhappy. I know why he stays around, but I also know why he’d leave. And that’s the scary part. I can push him away. And I might. If I don’t straighten up. I know Im not alone in this thought. This perverse method of dealing with me. At least I hope I’m not. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with him, it’s just a… mood. It’s like, I’m ready. Ready to fight. Ready to argue. I don’t know if it’s because I’m already hurting or aggravated from something that has nothing to do with him, but I’m irritable beyond explanation. & I get simultaneously more selfish. I think about me and only me. And how much I’m aggravated. And how to come back at everything he says. I’m ready to point out his every mistake…. And that’s fucked up. 

      He shouldn’t have to deal with that. I know it. He knows it. & that only worsens the situation. Now my mind is running wild and I’m still paying too close attention him. I’m reading into his every action. I’m taking offense to things I was once okay with. He walks over to his folded pants and rummages through the pockets. He removes his phone and starts pressing buttons. Text message, I think. From a bitch, I add on. (Females are always “bitches” when I’m upset.) But I let it slide. I can feel my heart sink, but I say nothing. I just pretend I don’t care. Not that I don’t see it, but I put on the front that I don’t give a damn who he talks to. Which, in turn, translates into I don’t gave a damn about him. So I treat him that way. To show him that I don’t give a fuck. That he can’t hurt me. That he can do whatever he wants and so will I. My language emits the same tone. I talk down to him. I treat him like nobody because I want to show him how it feels to be nobody to me. That I can easily let him go and he can send a mass text message all the bitches he knows and let them know he’s up for grabs. Because he “ain’t my man” and I let him know that at every turn as if I’m happy about it. As if that’s the way that I want it. 
     All the while… it hurts. What fails to be seen through this charade –by both him and myself– is how much it hurts. How I already decided upon a story about how he met this girl and now, when I’m treating him poorly, he’s going to run to her and give her everything that’s supposed to be reserved for me and she’s going to like it and treat him nice and he’s going to like that and treat her the same and eventually… I’ll be another girl he has the “Where did we go wrong” conversation with. This is the “[crazy] in love,” I talked about before.  This is what men don’t like. It’s the random shit that’s in our heads. It’s the stories we come up with that solidify his guilt before he knows it and might, simultaneously, drive him to perform those same acts we accuse him of. This morning I said nothing. I woke up with the same attitude. He was as sweet as he always is and maybe even more so. But he was unhappy. And I saw it on his face, and I can’t say that I was happy either. And at this moment, a descision needs to be made. Do I keep this up? Because, in reality, whatever this issue is, it’s my fault. 
    ohh.. rewind. So I came back to the city from a day trip home to Rhode Island. Due to traffic, my sister couldn’t drop me off at my place. So instead of being home 2-ish, I didn’t get home until 4pm (I hate the PATH train). It was a long ride after a long day, and really, all I wanted to do was lay in his arms (that’s the truth) but I knew I’d have to explain why my phone had been off this whole time before he came to see me — because had his phone been off like mine was, it’d have been a… ummm… fuckin problem. But after a long day, I was tired and wasn’t sure I wanted to have… relations and I was sure he’d press up and I’d have to brush him off somehow because all I really wanted to do was lay in my bed. Speaking of my bed, as I walked to my apartment, I wondered if he’d made the bed. I hadn’t asked him to, but I assumed he probably didn’t. He probably left my room however he wanted to with absolutely no regard for me and how tired I’d be when I got back. I was ready to call him and tell him how inconsiderate he was before I even saw it. 
    & that was me. Pre-Irritated. I hadn’t even spoken to him. There’s no way he could have done something wrong. But I was upset anyways. I walked into the house and opened my bedroom door. There was my bed. Made. Looking like a man made it, but made none the less lol. & The dishes in the sink like I had asked him to. I called him. He picked up. He was the sweetest man in the world.  That’s what I like about him. He does things for me. All around, I mean. He does more for me that he has to because, in reality, he actually has to. He gives me more than I deserve. When I’m a bitch to him, he’s nicer to me. I get through and aggravate him at times, but he’s never really angry with me. He never dismisses me. What does he really do? He sits quietly with his head hanging. Silently doubting how I told him I feel for him. I saw him do it. & he has a right to. After all the times I tell him how much I like him, I’m surely not acting like it. Maybe he feels like he’s wasting his time. Maybe he feels like I’m happier elsewhere. Or that I am elsewhere. And he’s going to think that way when he leaves me, too. 
     8am is too early for an argument. Sometimes, I manage to pull it off. But today, I was too confused in how I felt to speak to him. He woke up to iron his clothes (because I said I wouldn’t do it. I said I don’t have time in the morning –which is true– but honestly, I just don’t want to) while I made his tea & toasted his bagel. I was trying to be half nice. But when I came back in the room and I saw the phone in his hand slip into his pocket, I automatically sprung back to the bitches thoughts. Someone is getting my “good morning” texts, my mind went on. 

He’s thinking of someone else right now. 
He doesn’t want to be here. 
He doesn’t want to be here with me. 
He doesn’t want me. 
He’s going to leave.  
     Fellas: If you’re girl is every showing signs of “[crazy] in love,” this is really what’s going on in her head. We’ve already foreseen it all. We think you’re going to leave. Maybe not right now. Maybe not tomorrow. But eventually. You’re going to be like every other guy and one of those girls you call “hoe” around me is going to get a hold of you. You’re going to like her on your free time, we think. Because maybe I’m too much. & some of us are, myself included. I know it’s a pain to be nicer to a girl that she deserves. To combat her bitchiness with charm… but that’s what it takes. It’s not that I want to walk all over a guy. But  I want to know that he can deal with me. Because I’m a bitch sometimes. & I don’t mean to be. But… what if you leave me? That’s what I’m thinking: What if he leaves me? I need you to tell me you won’t leave me. 
     There’s one thing about me that has changed over the years: My attitude. & perhaps it is maturity. I can’t say I don’t make mistakes anymore, but I know they are mistakes when I make them and I am more ready to admit that, attempt to prevent them or rectify the situation asap. I’ve gotten into this swing before with ex’s and, truth be told, once you let it get a hold of you, there’s no turning back. Once you start the yelling and complaining and shit talking, it’s difficult to get rid of it when you’ve let it run wild. So I’m trying to put out the flames before it becomes an inferno. I know I’m difficult to manage now, but he’s never seen me at full strength. And I don’t want him to. I’m learning to be more considerate. I’m learning to see him as an individual person as opposed to a guy that I’m dating who now belongs to me. He doesn’t belong to me… but he kinda does. & I need to find a balance for that. I need to treat him with respect. He deserves that much. & he’s honestly amazing to me –when I don’t deserve it and he’s spectacular when I do. Remember I told you all that my ex said I didn’t deserve as much as I think I do when he left me? (Yea… I umm… will hold that against him forever.) Well, you know what… the new guy gives me more that I think I deserve. And that’s the way it should be. Because when I act up, I have no justification for my actions. It makes me feel guilty. It makes me want to change my attitude.  Because I want to repay him. And although my pride (and fear) holds me back, I want to do everything for him. I want him happy. I love him happy. And he deserves more than what I give him. It’s me who’s falling short. 
       I need to decrease my swag. Sometimes I swag out and don’t treat him like I should. That’s a man. He should be treated like one. I don’t have time to iron his clothes and make him breakfast in the morning [never mind a real breakfast], but someday I hope to. And frequently I want to. This all takes work… but, I think that I need to be more considerate to him. Actually, women –black women in particular– we need to be more considerate. He jokingly tells me I need to tend more to my “womanly duties” and although we both laugh, we both know it’s true. I need to mature to that point and I think many females do, too. We sometimes go into a relationship thinking that the other person should already be there, when we’re not there ourselves. I can’t keep expecting him to do all his “manly” requirements if I won’t tend to my own chores. Similarly, he can’t expect me to learn how to do these things if he pulls back on how good he is to me because then I’ll think he doesn’t “deserve” for me to go the extra mile for him. I need time. I need to learn how to work this. I’m so used to being all about me that it’s hard to figure him in. but I’m trying. I think a woman should try. I’m all for gender roles & he is too. But whatever “role” you take in your relationship, you expect the other person to play a role as well. The only way for this production to turn out well is if each person plays the role they’re responsible for. 
     Today, I learned that I need to play my role better. More lady, less bitch. Because I might just push  him into the arms of another. I can’t expect him to be happy if I keep treating him like that. & I can’t expect him to be content with me and just me if he’s unhappy. I don’t want him to be unhappy. I’d never seen him like that. Instead of getting mad at me for being a bitch all day, he got mad that the pizza place delivered the wrong pizza. He was so upset that it was half funny. But he’s normally so mild mannered that it… scared/upset me to see him like that. People shouldn’t be unhappy. If your relationship is already in a place where you’re  unhappy, I’m unsure of if that can be fixed. But if you are starting to be irritated, you need to address the problem immediately before it heads south. Think of it as “crisis management”. I just never want to go there again. Once you get into the fighting and the screaming and the crying, I don’t think there’s ever any coming back. At least, I’ve never been able to in my experience. 
      There is a temporary solution. A relationship aspirin of sorts. Just be warned it won’t fix everything but here it is: If you’ve been reading, you know I get all my life lessons from Jay-Z. So… if all else fails and you don’t know how to fix the situation, listen to Jay-Z & R.Kelly’s “Break Up”: “Sex is always better fresh off a vendetta…You was going through your act till I caught you in the sack and I made you relax when I hit it harder from he baaaccckk”. I mean… sometimes, we just want you to do your mad thing. I want him to do his mad thing 😉
Example #2: 
One day, she decided to flip it
Wasn’t nothing I could do about it
like she the boss of this shit
started talking that “divorcing” shit
Gave her half my rib, Half my crib.
Half my cake. Half my car.
Half my kid? Can’t get that. 
Tried to swing on a God, had to dip that. 
Yo, pushed her on the bed, lifted her leg, had to rip that. 
All she wanted was rough sex, with her slick ass. 
Had to sit back, smoke a blunt & just look. 
With her fine ass body & a damned good cook.
For some reason yo, she had me stuck.
And I had her in my web, too. 
You my Queen, God bless you. 

Nas, Kissing.


The real solution: If you want a King who treats his woman like a Queen, you should be a Queen who treats her man like a King. 

&Vice versa.