You my dear are like second hand smoke.
You choke me yet I do not smoke you.
And after visiting Aphrodite, you come to me smiling and full of surprises. I get roses, coffee dates, books, stationery and you even surprise me by asking me to dance with you, but when you pull me close and ask me to lay my head on your chest, I inhale her.
I inhale your guilt and anxiety through your beating heart.
And like the jealous and wounded woman that I am, I ask you, “how was your weekend?”
You step back and look into my eyes and say, “it was boring, I missed you so much.”
But, I smile and step out of your embrace to breathe in some air that would dispel the stench that’s your guilt.
You are God’s most wonderful piece of work.
A picture with you is like being in a glossy magazine with you as the model and me as a prop.
You want to stay in.
I have to leave for work, but what I really want to do is go home and write. Love, do you know that I write? Yes, you buy me stationery and know the best books to get me, but do you really know that I write? And it’s just not, abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz but complete sentences that form a story?
So, I leave.
But I know thanks to your IG that you must have hired a car for a day, went to a park, had a blast and took endless selfies with your cookie jar. They are very beautiful women. The one in a green bra does know how to pout. I also liked the one in red braids, her cheeks look kissable, but I bet you knew that already.
And when I get home, my friend asks me, “so, when will you ever date?”
I smile and say “never,” because I have just had a two month class on the fine art of lying and being in numerous relationships from you.
She looks at me and shakes her head in disbelief.
And, the best part of all this is that you had asked me to give you a chance, to weigh things out and decide if I want you.
I want you.
It’s no lie that you are a handsome devil, but I want you out of my life.
And what amazes me is that you still had hope, that I would stay, yet, you never did anything to make me stay.
You bought me things I love, while you slept around with other women.
For my attention you disrespected me.
You appreciated my cooking and cherished how I got along with your family, while you did everything to threaten their trust by not being honest with them about me.
You want to have fun while I do the growing up for you.
We cannot switch roles.
Go have fun.
Go make merry.
Thank you for a wonderful insight on lying and lack of focus, and until then, steer clear of me.