I have a confession to make. I’m an e-hoarder (gotta love the digital age otherwise I’d have Nike boxes full of photos, notes etc) . My contacts full of numbers that I don’t have use for, I still got Facebook pokes from girls I had a crush on Freshman year, GMails from many past loves, photobucket full of…well, I won’t go there. As I clear this clutter, I couldn’t help but rummage through some of these old messages, most recently from “Ms”. They read as a tragic tale, from initial flirting, professions of love, long winded rants because we were too petty to talk on the phone, ending of course with her determining my life is too crazy and she moves to Atlanta. So as I reflected how my life turned into a Drake song, I thought about my other fails at love in the past year and the underlying theme, insecurities and doubts.
I said the other day, I’m very open and honest on this blog. I’m open and honest period and it has come back to bite me as I come off as a “player”.Couldn’t agree less however, that is the perception some get from me. I flirt, I charm, but I wouldn’t say I’m misleading to get what I want. Even other men have that same skewed view of me, they see me enjoying some attention and assume I’m just slaying them all. Denying only adds to the mystique apparently. You spend your teenage years trying to convince others you are hooking up, your 20s trying to convince others you’re not. Mama said they’d be days like this. No she didn’t.
Players are just cruel people, lying and manipulating for sex, money or even worse, mere attention. There’s a coldness, a la,ck of compassion, a hint of sociopathy that goes into being a player. It’s hard to respect, especially when playing off hopes and hearts is the easiest possible way to go about it. It’s also child’s play, texting 50-eleven people, always lying and having to protect said lies, that’s not dating, that’s not fun, that’s just….stress. Four girlfriends is one thing, get 4 women who know of one another but still vying for your affection is another. You need a certain amount of
money, good looks cache to pull that off. Same applies to women, having a bunch of dudes buying you drinks trying to smash is one thing, a list of eligible bachelors wanting something serious is another.
That’s why I resent being called a player, I’m not a 16 year old boy chasing skirts, been there done that. There comes a time when discretion is needed, when being single isn’t a handicap, when you’re secure with yourself and what you have to offer that you don’t need jedi mind tricks to get what you want. You’re looking for somebody, not just anybody. Play on players, but they are nothing to the bachelor/bachelorette….