A Little Reflection
Let’s keep it funky…like for real, let’s keep it a buck. I get trash treatment from trash individuals because I’m not using my built-in filtration system. Fuck not using it… ya girl has all but deactivated all filtration! I’ve gotten so “come as you are” that almost anyone with an ounce of courage has gotten at least a first date, a facetime a something. I still suffer from the idea that I better just like what likes me… Cause what I like is often time outta my reach. Care to unpack this with me? Of course, you do.
I have no clue how to flirt… I don’t even know how to let it be known I’m into someone. I can literally be so into someone that when I notice we are in the same space I will totally forget what I’m doing and turn to mush; I mean full on a 14-year-old girl. I’ve been known to say things like “I like your face” or ” I’d like to look at you, maybe over coffee?” or the ever-popular “you’d look good sitting on my couch watching a movie with me”. To make matters worse I’m never sure if someone is flirting with me. With a degree in communication, you’d think I’d be better, right?
Socially, I’m awkward as fuck, I tend to drink or otherwise naturally alter my mood to combat my attitude coming off as standoffish. I mean, I have anti-anxiety medicine I could use but it doesn’t agree with alcohol so we know what wins.
So here I am, with no game, socially awkward armed only with liquid or green courage looking better than these streets deserve and also, looking stupid. I get home and someone is on some dating app I still have installed on my phone or in my DMs on IG or some weird shit like that telling me enough to get my interest. They’ve gotten my interest despite knowing in real life we are both more than likely too shy to spark up conversation. Or, even worse, that more than likely this merely a holla of opportunity that neither one of us exhibits what the other is actually looking for in real life. Months go by and I’m still in phone dealings with someone who has more bullshit than they’ve got edges (you wanted me to blog about you… you’re welcome)
I’ve decided that until I can work out this whole “get who I want” thing I’m not finna settle for any ol date. I’m tired of looking back on significant time being spent with insignificant women that I KNEW weren’t the move. One thing worse than no company is bad company.
I have no clue how to flirt… I don’t even know how to let it be known I’m into someone. I can literally be so into someone that when I notice we are in the same space I will totally forget what I’m doing and turn to mush; I mean full on a 14-year-old girl. I’ve been known to say things like “I like your face” or ” I’d like to look at you, maybe over coffee?” or the ever-popular “you’d look good sitting on my couch watching a movie with me”. To make matters worse I’m never sure if someone is flirting with me. With a degree in communication, you’d think I’d be better, right?
Socially, I’m awkward as fuck, I tend to drink or otherwise naturally alter my mood to combat my attitude coming off as standoffish. I mean, I have anti-anxiety medicine I could use but it doesn’t agree with alcohol so we know what wins.
So here I am, with no game, socially awkward armed only with liquid or green courage looking better than these streets deserve and also, looking stupid. I get home and someone is on some dating app I still have installed on my phone or in my DMs on IG or some weird shit like that telling me enough to get my interest. They’ve gotten my interest despite knowing in real life we are both more than likely too shy to spark up conversation. Or, even worse, that more than likely this merely a holla of opportunity that neither one of us exhibits what the other is actually looking for in real life. Months go by and I’m still in phone dealings with someone who has more bullshit than they’ve got edges (you wanted me to blog about you… you’re welcome)
I’ve decided that until I can work out this whole “get who I want” thing I’m not finna settle for any ol date. I’m tired of looking back on significant time being spent with insignificant women that I KNEW weren’t the move. One thing worse than no company is bad company.
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