Nice abs, sucky attitude.
I met him when I was 15 and he was 18. He had a problem with my age but he's a dude, I'm a chick, and he went for it anyway.
He was 3 years older and couldn't believe a girl my age was so intelligent and had common sense.
And I must say, I'm one of a kind. I'm pretty strange but I'm not boring.
I forget how many months we were going out. All I remember is the stress from it.
He was rude and obnoxious. He got into my head and made me believe that I was soo special and then tried to bend me to his will every chance he got. He was insecure. A little bit possessive. Immature at the wrong times. One of those types where it's all about him. Whenever we have a conversation, it's always HIS goals (that he never fulfilled) or HIS dreams (which are unrealistic) or sex.
sex sex sex sex sex.
A turn off.
He was a libra. Freaky bastards.
I digress. He was so interesting at first. I loved our conversations. We talked about the future, school, getting jobs, college, clothes, people, weather, seasons...
He was such a refreshing face! I had just stopped going back to my first love and the dude I was dating in between was no longer interested in me.
And here comes this attractive guy, with good conversation, nice teeth and skin...
I'm was mostly influenced by the movie Love Jones though. It had just came on 20 mins before I met Malcolm. I took it as a sign.
Can you blame me?
Our first argument:
Me: I don't smoke weed. And you can't pass that test you need for your job if you keep doing it.
Him: *Rolls a blunt and inhales* Mhm.
Me: Bye Malcolm
Him: *laughing* you mad?
That first argument led to other arguments about me cheating on him, seeing other dudes, not doing what he wanted in bed...
On and on and on for months.
I remember very clearly, I had a very bad day. I needed him to support me emotionally.
He was nowhere to be found. Wouldn't answer my calls. And when he did and I complained about his bullshit, I get this response:
Malcom: Look I don't have time to hear you scream okay. I'm trynna do what I wanna do. I work now. I got a job. I don't want to hear all of this.
Me: But you said you were going to be there for me.
Malcolm: When I said I was gonna be there for you, I didn't mean it literally!
Sad part is: He really said that shit. Just like that. I'll never forget it.
And somehow I just let it roll off of me, but I didn't call him again. We lost contact over the years.
I found out he had sex with an old friend of mine and on his old myspace there are pictures of his new baby boy.
And every now and again he would message me and try to reach me but I was still too angry to even take notice.
Fast Forward to today:
Message on myspace. He sends his number. Says hey, it's been a long time, I would really like to catch up.
So I call. It's been 3 years. I'm bored and cranky, why the hell not?
It starts off a little awkward, but he's asking me how I've been, how old I am now, what I've been up to, school, college, etc...
Strike 1: SO are you single now? he asks.
Why the flock would YOU wanna know negroe? Why is it any of your concern? I ain't going backwards to your rude and crazy ass.
Strike 2: (Talks mostly about himself and career goals for 45 mins)
*Please note, I stayed on the phone this long because my aim buddies suck. Alot. And sleep was not an option. Followers, do you have aim? Let's chat so we can avoid another situation like this*
Strike 3: Malcolm: "it's almost a yr to the day we started talking. and don't think im trynna get with u or nothin, oh no it's nothing like that but remember we said if it didn't work out we would meet back up when u were 18"
SO WHY BRING IT UP THEN?
What's your game, Malcolm cuz I really DON'T feel like playing.
Plus I DON'T EVEN REMEMBER SAYING THAT SHIT!
And the kicker of the story!!!
Strike FOUR: Have you ever lived one of your fantasies? Because I would love to see you (insert explicit nature of threesome here)
Me:..........Listen i got some1 on the other line so ima speak to u another time.
Malcolm: alrite but call me when----
The fuckery. The pure, unadulterated fuckery. The nerve. His own kid should smack him for that one.
Just no words. Again. I sure know how to pick them. SMH!
Needless to say he won't get a call back. Moral of the story: Keep the skeletons in the closet. They're ugly to look at in broad daylight.
The things I do out of boredom.