I’ve always been a fool for romantics I love the idea of being in love. As a child (and honestly as an adult) I was addicted to Cinderella and The Little Mermaid not realizing the damaging messages they were teaching me- If I work hard and deal with bitches my one true love will magically find me (Cinderella) or if I give up my voice I can rely on my looks to get a mate (The Little Mermaid). You would assume that after having my heart completely demolished twice I’d know better than to fall subject to foolery again. However, I have fallen victim to romantic notions time and time again. I’ve always hated the term “hopeless romantic” it suggests that if you’re romantic you’re a lost cause so I call myself a hopFUL romantic being that I’m full of hope that I will one day be romanticized and live happily ever after.
Little Miss Better Late than never should’ve been introduced to y’all quite some time ago being that she really and truly romanticized me. But due to a bad trip to visit her in DC and the constant limbo we find ourselves in I had yet to write about her because I felt a woman as special as her deserved a beautiful intro to LML one with all the whimsy and fairy dust she made me feel. However, magic isn’t real and I can’t seem to find working fairy dust at any local stores. I call her Little Miss Better Late than Never (BLTN) because we first crossed paths years ago, we were both in relationships and nothing inappropriate was said or done but the attraction was noted. She followed me on social networks and was able to keep up with me beneath the radar. One day she introduced herself professing her crush on me. I was like “why not? give her my number and see where this goes”… She was (is) aesthetically my jam… Nice skin tonei, cute shape BIG TEETH (eeeek!). Outside of looks she has a healthy spiritual relationship with God, smart, mean shoe game, kind, loves Anita Baker, pet lover, go getter tender, all that good stuff. I somewhere along the way forgot to use my brain and allowed my heart to get caught up in the rapture that is a new gal- she sold a dream and I bought it. I foolishly forgot that this woman had the advantage of getting to know me via social networks for just about 4 years and had time to piece together tiny tidbits (of 140 characters or less) or my signature pouty face selfies into this wonderbering that I’m not (although I am wondrous). Strange part is that I’m me unapologetically no matter what platform. I suppose my sass is only cute when you don’t hear it, Or is it my “fuck you” is only girl power when you’re not the “you” I’m referring to. Fuck- I dunno, not sure I give a damn. I feel cheated like I gave the last bit of my heart that had not been broken by some funky bitch to someone I thought would mend it back to the rest of my broken pieces healing my heart. No…. that aint it Princess Ella’Vatah of the Joneses of Middletown, Atlanta; life don’t work that…. Not for you.
Little Miss BLTN reminded me that I gotta pack my brain when dealing with these women and keep your standards high and expectations moderately low. I will not take anyone’s shit, however bear in mind that people at one time or another will shit. I now see why the correct term hopeless romantic cause I’ve lost hope for romantics. I now know to be full of hope on the lesbian scene is to be full of shit at least for me. I’m don’t giving these girls the best that I’ve got (catch the 2nd Anita reference?!) and being left with scraps of my former self…. I’m done using my heart. Can we date? yes, can we smash? Perhaps. Can I give you all of me? Nah, Lil Mamma you missed that boat. If I use my heart again it will be for keeps… gotta problem with that? See the one who tap danced on it
Till next time
My feelings are best expressed through song- “Me give my heart to a woman? Not for Nothin Never happen (no intrest in mackin)