And I'll say it again:
FUCK fuckkity fuck fuck.
I'm driving myself nuts. I am really crazy. I'm certain of it.
Thing is, he ain't doing anything and I'm finding all this shit wrong. And then on the other hand, I get all paranoid and upset because I'm scared that I'mma run him off... despite the fact that I'm not visibly doing anything either.
That even sounds crazy.
Basically, all the issues I have featured here, he's never seen. He doesn't know I wanted to slay him for implying that I'm a sheltered scaredy cat when we first went out. He doesn't know I was ready to kill him for that shit ass attitude he gave me that weekend after failing to fuck me right. He doesn't know that I was ready to slay him Sunday morning. He doesn't know that I fear moving to the midwest more than anything on this earth. He has no idea I'm such a nut. On the surface I'm calm, funny, compassionate and considerate of his feelings, albeit a bit spoiled. He definitely knows I'm spoiled.
Ahhh... thats it!
That's what I'm scared of. I'm scared he's misinterpreting my being spoiled as being dependent. Which I am not. I ain't dependant on anyone. If pops was to throw me out right now, I could go get an apartment. I'd be broke, starving, and sleeping on the floor for months (fuck that, I'd smooth jack that air mattress from hell I'm sleeping on right now), but I could manage. I pay my own bills, do my own thang. I just happen to have a family that thinks I'm the greatest fuckin thing since sliced bread. And I'm glad, because if they didn't think it, who the fuck would? I sure as hell don't think I'm that great. I think I'm a crazy, unworthy, sinful over-sexed, ex-pimpstress who used my bomb pussy against niggas for a few years.
Damn thats ugly in black and white.
But its the truth. Thats what I think about myself. Underneath the college graduate, black professional, well groomed and articulate BULLSHIT I pull outta my ass on a daily basis, I've got that. The insane. The insecure. The horny psycho paranoid bitch featured here on a daily basis.
I damn sure can't tell him that. But I've got to make him see that I'm independent, and being spoiled is extras. I really don't think he gets it. I can tell by the way he reacts if I get dropped off. So what if I didn't drive over there? I'm there, aint I? You didn't have to pick me up, and you don't have to take me home tomorrow. Why? Because my baby brother will do it. He doesn't understand that I'm not depending on them to do this for me, they volunteer because they know I hate to drive and I cant see for shit at night. When I do go over there alone, I'm getting phone calls the whole way to make sure I found a parking spot, I'm safe, I didn't get shot up driving through his hood (which is worse than mine come to find out). But I think he sees that as a bad thing. And now I have to explain and defend so he wont run away.
FUCK.
Why is shit always so fuckin complicated for me? I mean, ALWAYS. There's always something fuckin in the way. But now I've narrowed down another issue, so I've gotta face it. I'm gonna sit here, take my damn time, and outline this shit so when I get to him tonight I can just break it down for him. Make sure he understands that I am my own woman. I don't have to answer to anyone. My family doesn't rule my life. I am fully capable of doing shit by myself for myself.
I just don't have to. And as far as I'm concerned, thats a good fuckin thing.
I'm driving myself nuts. I am really crazy. I'm certain of it.
Thing is, he ain't doing anything and I'm finding all this shit wrong. And then on the other hand, I get all paranoid and upset because I'm scared that I'mma run him off... despite the fact that I'm not visibly doing anything either.
That even sounds crazy.
Basically, all the issues I have featured here, he's never seen. He doesn't know I wanted to slay him for implying that I'm a sheltered scaredy cat when we first went out. He doesn't know I was ready to kill him for that shit ass attitude he gave me that weekend after failing to fuck me right. He doesn't know that I was ready to slay him Sunday morning. He doesn't know that I fear moving to the midwest more than anything on this earth. He has no idea I'm such a nut. On the surface I'm calm, funny, compassionate and considerate of his feelings, albeit a bit spoiled. He definitely knows I'm spoiled.
Ahhh... thats it!
That's what I'm scared of. I'm scared he's misinterpreting my being spoiled as being dependent. Which I am not. I ain't dependant on anyone. If pops was to throw me out right now, I could go get an apartment. I'd be broke, starving, and sleeping on the floor for months (fuck that, I'd smooth jack that air mattress from hell I'm sleeping on right now), but I could manage. I pay my own bills, do my own thang. I just happen to have a family that thinks I'm the greatest fuckin thing since sliced bread. And I'm glad, because if they didn't think it, who the fuck would? I sure as hell don't think I'm that great. I think I'm a crazy, unworthy, sinful over-sexed, ex-pimpstress who used my bomb pussy against niggas for a few years.
Damn thats ugly in black and white.
But its the truth. Thats what I think about myself. Underneath the college graduate, black professional, well groomed and articulate BULLSHIT I pull outta my ass on a daily basis, I've got that. The insane. The insecure. The horny psycho paranoid bitch featured here on a daily basis.
I damn sure can't tell him that. But I've got to make him see that I'm independent, and being spoiled is extras. I really don't think he gets it. I can tell by the way he reacts if I get dropped off. So what if I didn't drive over there? I'm there, aint I? You didn't have to pick me up, and you don't have to take me home tomorrow. Why? Because my baby brother will do it. He doesn't understand that I'm not depending on them to do this for me, they volunteer because they know I hate to drive and I cant see for shit at night. When I do go over there alone, I'm getting phone calls the whole way to make sure I found a parking spot, I'm safe, I didn't get shot up driving through his hood (which is worse than mine come to find out). But I think he sees that as a bad thing. And now I have to explain and defend so he wont run away.
FUCK.
Why is shit always so fuckin complicated for me? I mean, ALWAYS. There's always something fuckin in the way. But now I've narrowed down another issue, so I've gotta face it. I'm gonna sit here, take my damn time, and outline this shit so when I get to him tonight I can just break it down for him. Make sure he understands that I am my own woman. I don't have to answer to anyone. My family doesn't rule my life. I am fully capable of doing shit by myself for myself.
I just don't have to. And as far as I'm concerned, thats a good fuckin thing.
posted by ~~~. at 3/22/2005 08:38:00 AM
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