So the ex-paramour is back. There's a pattern to his appearances that amuses me. I guess it's the predictability of it all. No real upping of intensity or different approaches. Other than an increase of syncophant-ish antics and platitudes. Wrong move because a) I don't like to be objectified and b) I certainly don't need my ego stroked.
I will say that a while back I bounced around the idea of a return. I thought to myself "hey you never know...folks grow...transform." Sheeeit. A few glaring red alerts later, I realized this nigga ain't changed a bit. And even more so, he still believes I'm stuck on the same emotional timeline with him. All five years ago. Sorry dude, I moved on.
He professed to love Lisa...but what he really loves are my traits. He knows nothing of me, but more than likely if I were to tell him this, he'd disagree.
Chile. Dirty love is blind as hell.
I mean really if dude was a girl, he'd volunteer to be my handmaiden or some shit. And if I were asleep, if I got off on being placed on some towering pedestal, I'd probably be falling for it. Lapping it up like a kitty on cream.
But I'm already satisfied with myself. So nowadays when I think in the direction of relationships, I think of sharing my energy with someone...not just my body or my random thoughts/hopes/dreams. I want to be known and seen in entirety. Always more than the sum. I want my passion returned measure for measure. Beat for beat.
If you're deaf to my tone, then how can we ever even hope to harmonize?
Ha! That's the 77 million dollar question.
Posted by Lisa at April 20, 2008 03:23 AM