Forever the other woman?

I have been in a funky mood for the most part of this week. I still am, actually. I am not exactly sure why but, well, I’m waiting it out. These weird moods come and go. Maybe it is because I have been on my period, oh, that is soooo cliche. So pedestrian. Lol. Or maybe it’s a mini depressive episode… Oh well, as I said, if I wait it out long enough, it always passes. I just dig in and hold on and it passes. πŸ™‚ Though it could be why I have been so uninspired to make a blog post for a while now. I try to do a post regularly but the truth is, sometimes inspiration totally lacks.

Anyway, these last couple of days have been weird in other ways too. So this guy I used to see a while back. I have written about him before, if you follow my posts. Recently married guy, no kids, asking me to be his back-up, remember him? Yes, him. First, y’all need to answer a question. Does a guy (or a chic) qualify as an EX if y’all never got down to doing the nasty? You know, bumping uglies nshit…. πŸ˜‰ Of course there was emotional involvement but that evaporated rather fast once I heard the guy’s proposal. Though, truth be told, it may not have really been emotions… Rather, a lust-filled, hormone-induced haze confused for emotions. And love. The genitals and hormones are preeeetty good at getting a person confused about lust and real emotions! Especially when you have been on a dry spell as long as mine… For real, I’ve been on a dry spell so long, I’m no longer sure how long it is. I stopped counting at some point. It was counter-productive. Lol. I was just thinking the other day that the only thing rivaling the dry spell is the size of my thighs. Followed very closely by my ass. These things are massive! You think I call myself Thunderthighs because it’s an awesome name? Ok, fine, so I think it is a cool name. Still doesn’t change the fact that my thighs are huuuge. Hehehehe. Oooooh, I smiled! I just made myself smile. This day might turn out well after all…

Anyway, excuse my rambling. I’m a loner by nature. I find very disturbing ways to self-entertain. πŸ˜€ So, back to this guy. Let’s call him George. I weighed the pros and cons of dating George and I decided it would be much safer for my heart for me not to date him. (and honestly, for my face too. I’ve heard one too many stories about how a woman’s face was disfigured my hot water or car battery acid by a jealous significant other once she was found out!) So I sat George down and I explained to him that the best we could ever be is friends. And he tried to change my mind but didn’t succeed. I tell you, this was a tough decision. He is an Adonis of a man!! *Wipes drool* Tall, dark, lean, killer smile, DIMPLES! and oh Lawd, Jesus Christ, Jehovah (Please forgive me for using this name in vain), those thighs!! Dhem Dhighs! Sigh. Even my girl friend got a tad confused by them sinewy thighs… My girl was supposed to be my objective, impartial adviser and here, instead, she ends up advising me to date the fella. Because of his thighs. The licking I woulda unleashed on to those thighs…. *Shaking head* Fast forward a couple of months down the line, George has started calling me again. He recently got a new job. Something he considers more prestigious than his old jobs. Collectively. Because he’s gone through a couple of jobs in the time that I have known him. And I think he kinda just wants to rub it in my face. I think his ego might have not accepted yet the fact that there IS a girl who can turn him down. (The whole glorious self that is him. A gift from the good Lord Himself to women. sigh.) Either that, or he thinks now that he’s earning more, I’ll change my mind and sleep with him. He couldn’t be further from the truth… Nothing dries up my vagina faster than a man flaunting his cash at me, thinking that he can have me because that he has so much money. Studies done show that the leading cause of vaginal dryness is pricks who flaunt their money. That, man purses and men in skinny jeans. Seriously though, you men who wear skinny jeans, where do you tuck your balls?? Are you not interested in siring babies? Because that tightness and the heat generated is guaranteed to cook your sperms nice and proper… Or do you not have any balls? Hhhhmmm… that’s a possibility. So anyway, George is trying very hard to get me to date him. Of course he doesn’t get that my genitals are attached to my brain therefore if my mind is made up, my genitals have to, no matter how reluctantly, put away those pompoms and batons they had gotten out to cheer him on… I just cannot deal with that sort of drama. I won’t.

Anyway, dealing with George has gotten me thinking a lot. (Yes. Thinking. Wipe that smirk off your face. Sometimes, very occasionally, it IS a good thing when a woman sits down and thinks!). And thinking has got me to notice a disturbing trend in my life. I seem to have a rather unhealthy number of taken men in my life wanting one thing or the other from me. I have only ever been in two relationships in my entire life. The first one was puppy love. We were together for ages… almost 5 years actually. And to this day, I am not entirely sure why we broke up. We just sort of drifted apart and then one day I heard that he got married! We still talk, of course, and up to today he still tells me I’ll always be the one and he’ll always want to bang me. But he’s married with a child. And he’s not planning in leaving his wife any time soon. That math does not make sense to me. Anyway, the second relationship was a disaster. It started out so well. This was after I’d been single for quite a while. So I was ready to give it my all. And I did. And it ended so abruptly, I think I still have whiplash… The ninja didn’t even have common decency to break up with me properly. He did it via text. With some lame-ass excuse about distance nshit. I think that might have damaged me more than I care to admit. And since then I have never been in another relationship ever again. That was 6 years ago. A fling here and there, yes. Relationship, no. I am cynical and skeptical and sometimes I am sure I am going to be forever alone. Half of it is because a very large number of the men who hit on me are taken. Either married or they have steady girlfriends. A few I have even liked back. Liked enough to contemplate trying a thing or two with them. I didn’t notice this until recently, and it got me asking myself, am I doomed to forever be ‘The other woman’? Do I give out some sort of ‘other woman’ vibes, scent or pheromones? Or do I look desperate? In as much as I sometimes think that I’ll probably be forever alone, I do, once in every blue moon, envision what it would be like to be in a happy, stable, MONOGAMOUS relationship. Seriously, in the last 6 months only, it’s like there’s been an epidemic of sorts. I met this one guy and he’s really cool. He’s not married but has a girlfriend. That automatically relegated him to the friend-zone. We get to hang out a lot and we like each other a lot. He thinks I’m cool, I think he’s cool, life is cool, yaaaay! we’re all cool. Sigh. After a while, he starts sending me IMs. And he’s all like, I really like you, you’re cool and awesome and sweet and sexy and I wanna do you so bad bla bla bla, you catch the drift. Long story short, he wants to have his way with me but at the same time, has told me to please go out there and get myself a man. Because he is taken. He has absolutely NO problem sharing me with another man. Which, incidentally, is what George told me. He’s all like ‘Baby, I know I’m married and therefore will not always be there for you when you need it. So I have no problem with you getting yourself another man who will be there for you when I am not available.’ O______o I was like, ‘WHAT???????’ Why would you be willing to share me with someone if indeed you love me as you claim??? I do not know much about love but I do know I would not be willing to share my one love with another woman! This is just plain greed. And lust. And gluttony all rolled into one. And I seem to be caught up in the web. I am not the conventional hot chic that most men seem to gravitate towards to nowadays. Tall, light-skinned, skinny. I’m short, 5 foot, 4 inches short, chocolate-brown and decidedly un-skinny! Biig boobs, big ass. Hahahaha. Yeah, definitely far from conventional. So, I meet these guys who DO have the conventional chic for wives/girlfriends and apparently that seems not to be enough to keep them from straying. What is it really? What? You get together with the conventional woman to show off like a trophy, satisfy your pride and your friends and your family so that no one makes fun of you then poke around in the bush looking for the exact opposite? Hide them so that you can satisfy your inner cravings while maintaining the facade… I don’t know, but whatever it is, it’s got me skeptical enough that I am not sure I want to get married. I was just thinking the other day about my life and trying to just get centered and headed in the some sane direction and it suddenly occurred to me that the chances of me being alone for the rest of my life are quite high. And I have basically started to prepare myself for that possibility. Get myself financially stable and get a few investments going here and there, you know the deal…, find new hobbies, things to get pleasure from and to pass time. And as I thought and made my plans, it occurred to me that I was planning for a bleak future. The funny thing is, I am absolutely okay with that! I am absolutely fine with such a future because, honestly, the thought of forever being ‘The Other Woman’ or having my heart broken scares me far much worse than the thought of a future in what is fast being known as #TeamForeverAlone. How’s THAT for irony?

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