Hobo: You look like you got some good stuff girl.
Me: *polite smile*
Hobo: You the love 'em and leave 'em type, right?
Me: *walks away*
This exchange happened a few days before I graduated high school. I thought about it as I took off my make-up after work.
I am the love 'em and leave 'em type.
If someone shows me who they are, I try my damn'est (sic) to believe them. At this stage of my life, I'm not into chasing anyone. I'll do my part so you know I'm interested, but I am not calling you off the hook, I'm not texting you to GPS your location. Nada.
Why? I don't have the time.
I'm not playing games. I was never one for them and I am not impressed.
After Blair pulled that stunt (he hit me up for us to "spend time" and I rushed home, showered and he never picked up the phone and didn't call me back the next day to tell me what happened), he had the nerve to call me Tuesday night...TWICE. I wish I could say I ignored the call but I was asleep.
I text(ed) Dame on Tuesday, asking him how often he wants sex. (I was curious).
He said "Very often. I miss you a little. Call me tomorrow."
And so I did. Twice. No answer. I called him tonight. Twice. No answer.
And with that, I'm done. I have done my part. He can't miss me too much. I don't miss him, yet.
And thus, he can call. He can text. He can send carrier pigeons. I'll be here.
In the event, he doesn't...oh well.
What this blog has taught me is, they all come back - eventually.
(Call me smug, its apart of my allure.)
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