I’ma pimp him. It’s over, man. – Jay-Z Is That Yo Chick.
This is why I didn’t want him to be my Facebook friend. We broke up. & it was initially about money. So he posted his status as shown above. I saw it. So, I liked the muthafucka. Not because I was upset, rather, because I agreed. Why am I worried about him when I should be out making money? Or something like that. However I understood at that moment, I liked it. So I clicked it. Like a regular “friend” right? Wrong. Women tell themselves this because we’re “always right” when in reality I should have just left him alone. A mature woman would have left him alone. But… this is the experience in which I learned. It won’t happen again. Since then, he won’t stay off my wall. I went out with my sister & co. the other night & did what any normal person does when they get home, they update the internet about how much more awesome their life is in comparison to these digital “friends.”
“Fantastic night <3,” I posted. The next day, he blessed me with a “You ain’t do shit,” Comment underneath. Three of them. IDK how it showed up three times but it did. So I commented back. I went on about how glamorous my night was partying at the W and walking around times square with 6-inch heels on wearing blood red-lipstick inspired by Lanvin’s Spring 2011 collection. I also told him about how I met a sweet boy who goes by the name “Fly” and walked me all the way home that night. Then I remembered that I want nothing to do with him.
If you don’t want a guy to talk to you, don’t talk to him. I’ve ignored his texts thus far. & it seems like he’s gotten the hint until I liked his bitch-ass status. So 53 minutes after I responded to his comment (oh, I also told him to refrain from vulgarity on my page) I deleted my comments along with his. My page was now Piss Boy free. I don’t want any trace of a conversation between us. But he presses on. After I deleted his comments, he posted again. Either he wanted to be a dick and try to play me like I wasn’t enjoying myself, or he’s really thirsty for my attention. I don’t want to encourage him to keep speaking to me. In fact, I want to discourage him. Sometimes, we keep men in the rotation simply to avoid being alone. But you can’t control how you feel about them. We end up treating these guys like trash and just bringing them along for the ride. We ruin them. You know when a man is no longer meant for you. When nothing good will come of it. But you selfishly keep him anyway. And really it’s not just the woman’s fault. Guys, you let us do it. You keep calling. Keep begging for shitty treatment. When we’re with you, we can do whatever we want. Say whatever we want. If we’re lucky, we can have whatever we want. That is why we abuse you: because we can.
Having me around wouldn’t be healthy for him. Now, I could find a way to get some red on the bottoms of my shoes (as its the ultimate goal for the cold-hearted woman) but I actually liked him a tad. If left to my own devices, I would abuse him. Because I can. Because I have. It’s easy, really. I know what to say when and how to say it. So anything I’ve said for him to get upset at his been either on purpose or out of plain “Don’t give a fuck.” Either way, it’s not good for him. And I really shouldn’t take advantage of men like that. It is wrong. Still, some men want to be abused. If he reads this and still wants to take me out, I can do so with a clear conscience. I’m not hiding the fact that I like to be taken out and bought things. Everyone wants those things. Most girls hide it. Most girls are too afraid to admit that a pair of shoes can make them happy. But let’s be real, they do. When I get home, I change into a pair of shoes I can’t wear to work. So I can feel pretty. That’s what I like. The shit makes me happy and I only do shit which will make me happy. I was honest with him. And he didn’t like that.
Sadly, I didn’t love him. I would manufacture ways in my mind for us to work out… but should one really force love? He read my blog once and said he felt like he was just around till You came back. & he’s right. I’m not exactly thrilled about it… but he’s right. There’s nothing I can do about where my heart is (even and especially if it’s in a dumb place). So until the day when I get exactly who I want:
I don’t love ’em, I abuse them. & I don’t miss them when I lose them.
At least I’m strong enough to admit it.
(If this was Facebook, you’d “Like” that shit. lol. Matter fact, you should post this blog on your Facebook. Muchas gracias!!)
At the end of the day, though, he pee’d in my cups. You can’t come back from that.