Category Archives: Love

Today’s Word is… FOUR

“Can’t turn a bad girl good but once a good girl’s gone bad; she’s gone forever, I’ll mourn forever, got to live with the fact I did you wrong forever” 

That was the realest shit I ever heard. I was only like 13 tho.  Even into my early 20s, “Song Cry”  was my heartbreak remedy.  I didn’t need begging R&B records, Uncle Hov said aye sometimes things break bad, you just got to accept the L and move on.  There wasn’t much personal accountability, it was I KNOW I’m flawed, but you were the best part of us, but now you’re as messed up as me.  How disappointing…welp. New steak, who this.  (issa callback).  Sometimes the villain wins, so yada yada yada Jay ends up with the biggest superstar in the world, lord knows what happened to the Song Cry jawn.  Fast forward to 2017, Jay is once again making the song cry… Except he is crying, and apologizing to himself, to his wife, to his kids, to his sister in law, to the nigga he stabbed, (not to Kanye, Dame, Foxy, or Beanie tho ) and even to me, the youth who fell in love with Jay Z. “Forever macking” Jigga was long gone, this was full blown Uncle Hov, humbled.   Of course, we get older we mature (And sure it took until he was the same age Barack Obama was when he was elected, but hey.) but ultimately, Jay was humbled by what humbles many men, heartbreak and fatherhood.  And sure being beat up in an elevator and being branded a cheater in front of the whole world helps too. 

The humility of heartbreak, actual heartbreak, not you gave your situationship an ultimatum only to learn you didn’t matter that much or your #WCW just doesn’t look at you that way, makes you take a hard look at yourself.  Someone who you thought would love you forever is done with you.  Heartbreak that “Song Cry” or a trip out of town for a few days can’t fix.  I’ve “loved” and lost, went through the motions of someone with a broken heart but in hindsight, my ego was just bruised.   I don’t date exes as a general policy, but maybe I just didn’t love them enough to really earn them back.  Far as I was concerned, they just went bad.  I’ve loved and lost, and it gets to me sometimes. Not just the humbling of being heartbroken but the humbling of being so wrong that I had to teach myself how to trust myself again.  That good girls weren’t just going bad, they were just over me.  Still wondering if it’s even possible to love me forever, am I always just going to burn hot and quick like a supernova.  It took Jay damn near 5 decades to figure out his flaws, what if I’m still blind to mine?  Jay and Bey got a happy ending, but they’re the exception, not the rule.  

The humility of fatherhood, of which I can only speak on as a spectator.  Jay Z who coming up was as chauvinist as he was clever is now close to breaking at the thought of having to explain himself to his children one day.  Most men have a fear their child will grow up and learn they ain’t shit.  Kids are unfiltered too, they go to school and tell all their friends you ain’t got no job and 3 roommates.  I think about my brother, who spent his last on my niece’s gift because *redacted family business* was worth not disappointing her.  I see my cousin at a cookout,  someone who one day *more redacted family business* and now is giving instructions on watching his daughter when all he was doing was going upstairs to shower for 30 minutes.  They are probably more daughter dads as their kids are daddy’s girls.  They make them want to be better men.  

The irony in a girl being born with the burden of a man’s emotional maturity; from her father to the ones she love to the son she may have.  It’s how Jay can say with a straight face that woman 12 years his junior matured faster than him, Kanye’s mother has been gone for a decade and we still blame her for not being around to check him.  Women are simply held to a higher standard, expected to take on a project and just hold on for dear life and hope it works out.  

 I’m not in the clear myself, the man I’ve become and continue to be also came on the backs of the women in my pasts’ emotional labor.  I’ve toyed with emotions, kept people around, tested the limits of their patience.  There was a time that’s where I got my confidence from; being loved, being wanted, even if I didn’t feel the same.  I’m still learning, still growing and I think I can figure it out before I’m 47. Maybe 30. 33?  Okay, at least before I’m somebody’s husband or father.  

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… EXCLUSIVE 

So once upon a time not long ago,  I was on a date with someone, let’s call her… Stacy, and we ran into a friend of hers.  They chopped it up for a second and then she introduced me, this is… *cue Jeopardy theme* “Tristan” I interjected to move this along because I don’t do awkward.  Two revelations came from this; first, she ain’t even bang with this friend of hers in the first place (why do women do this) and secondly, it was the first time she had to actually think about who the hell I was to her.  We had been kicking it for a few months, saw each other often, she even picked up a check… basically, we went together.  Or so she assumed.  She not so subtly brought it up at dinner, “next time you can just say you’re my boyfriend… Or boo…or lover…maybe bodyguard (she realized the hole she dug and recovered quickly, I liked that about her).  We decided I was her unpaid escort/spades intern and swept that “what are we” under the rug. We practically went together and that was good enough. Except… It wasn’t.  I liked someone else actually, I would later end up with that person.  Stacy never asked, I never told.  She just assumed I wasn’t interested in someone else, that was her fault.  Wasn’t like we were exclusive.  

Karma would get me back for that one, as I found myself on the wrong side of an assumed relationship.  Once again, technically she didn’t do anything wrong I never asked, she never told.  (But a WHOLE boyfriend, B. How you fail to mention you got a whole nigga. Not a date, not a hookup, an entire relationship *inhales* *exhales*).  The lesson here could be to never assume, always ask and don’t put all your eggs in one basket because no one else is.  This game cold, diversify your bonds. 2-3 years ago, Today’s word would be Assume. 

But I’m #damnnear30 now, so today’s word is exclusive.  Everyone has a basic understanding of how dating and relationships work, yet when it comes time to be accountable everyone turns into Jeff Sessions.  Asking for exclusivity has become a necessary step in the courting process, but we can all be real with ourselves for a second… It’s bullshit.  If you have to ask someone to stop dating other people, break up with their boyfriend, not sleep with an ex while you’re out of town (this didn’t happen to me it was on a Netflix show), chances are they aren’t that sure about YOU in the first place.  We operate under our free will, not titles.  We do things for the people we like, love, desire regardless of what they are to us, so why do we act as if we need to be told first when it’s convenient?  Are you a Sim? 
Are we at a point where a relationship is some big step in life?  Is this like how we created an upper middle class because the actual middle class is broke? The word “boyfriend” doesn’t sound serious but now it’s practically an engagement.  I panicked at the idea of Stacy calling me her boyfriend as if I wasn’t damn near her boyfriend.  Or is it because boyfriend engenders some level of accountability that a “bae” doesn’t.  We all the security of a relationship, with none of the responsibility of one.  So much so, we’ve extracted this whole concept of exclusivity, because you got to earn the right of me giving up options. Or something.  What do you call someone who isn’t your boyfriend but you’re dating exclusively? (Denial.) 

I knew at that dinner what Stacy wanted and I could’ve cleared the roster and made it real but I didn’t want to and I knew it then.  I did break it off not long after that.  The one I ended up with never asked were we exclusive and if she did my answer would’ve been of course because I wanted her and I’m an adult who knows how things work.  

-Stan-

  

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Today’s Word is… TINDERELLA

So I don’t do a lot of “binge watching”.  Usually I can watch an episode or two of a show and then I need to find something new to watch or do.  Every now and again a show does in fact hook me, and this past weekend it was Master of None.  It stars Aziz Ansari as Dev, a 30 year old Indian actor navigating his personal & professional life in New York City.  It’s a show of microaggressions, religion, parents who dont “get” millennials, and primarily how dating is trash.  The show is basically what Stan of Few Words as a TV series would be.  Starring Kofi Seriboe as me, cuz fuck you it’s my show.  One episode that stood out in particular was the 4th episode of season 2, First Date.  Now I’ve talked about first dates before, and I’ve talked about my online dating struggles, but that episode made me think about all my online first dates and the different types of women you meet online.  Now, I’m not going to pretend what women go through in online dating is comparable to what I went through because I don’t log on and get bombarded with pussy pictures and solicitations. (Well I did get an unsolicited video one time, I may have watched it til completion while also wondering how did we get here, nobody’s supposed to be here). I’ve never gone on dates and had to check in with a friend so they know I’m safe or been cussed out because I wasn’t interested (Well, there was one girl who ran up on me in a 7/11 because she thought I blocked her number).  Anyway, I feel like there’s 10 types of women you meet online whilst searching:

1. The Marshawn Lynch– She’s there so she doesn’t get fined.  She’s gotten out of a relationship, her man has already moved on and now her friends are imploring her to get some new eggplant because she’s making them look bad, as an unit.  She reluctantly makes a profile, but she really isn’t interested in dating.  In fact, she wishes you would be so awful that it would give credence to her decision to not date.  

2. The Brandy- She wanna be down.  She’s likes sports, video games, comics, beers, rap, casual sex and pizza.  She’s a good time, great chemistry then you get home and realize that didn’t even feel like a date, it felt like 2 friends hanging out.   You forgot to tell her she looked great, but she wore a messy bun and a Spider-Man shirt. 

3.  The Precedential- She’s the one who overanalyzes everything, she’s read all the dating books and articles and now everything means something from the color shirt you wore to whether you looked at the food or drinks first.  If you text her at 7:55 on Monday and 8:23 on Thursday clearly she wasn’t on your mind first you’re getting distant; is there something wrong?  You answered a yes or no question with one word, clearly there’s someone else.  If you rescheduling dates now, how can she rely on you as a partner? 

4. The Instagrammer- You’re about 64% sure that she only accepted the date for the photo op.  She posted a date night outfit, took pictures of the food and drinks, never of you because she has an image to uphold. She posts a goodnight picture about how she had the greatest time, meanwhile the actual date was awkward silences and bathroom breaks.  

5. The United Airline- She overbooks.  She needs to know by Tuesday if you’re on for Saturday afternoon because she has plans that evening.  She’s transparent about her schedule while failing to see how much of a turn off it can be.  

6. The Confessional- This might be the one I hate the most, the girl who waits until the date to reveal all the shit she lied about on her profile and over text.  I’ve had dates lie about children, boyfriends, age, smoking, jobs…but you already ordered and you was starving.  

7. The Culminator- The clock started from first message, by time it’s the first date she has already decided to be with you and she’ll learn the rest on the job.  

8. The Companion- You liked her, she liked you back. You message back and forth. You ask her out, she accepts. You go on a date and have a great time….but she isn’t looking for anything more than a friend. You’re not even her type, you just seemed cool.  This would be fine except you didn’t meet at work, YOU. MET. ON. A. DATING. SITE.  Who swipes right on people they aren’t interested in? That’s literally not how this works.  Probably goes to bars just to chill and drink water, ol loitering ass. 

9. The Priority- She’s been single for a while and has adjusted her life accordingly. She has her career, her family, her church, her netflix, her book clubs, her alumni groups, her sorority, her pets, her podcast, her blog, her freelance gig, her perennial self care vacations, and her long distance open relationship…then you come along and it’s apparent she has so much going on that she doesn’t even have time to date.  

10. Susan- They could have their own list honestly.  There’s “I don’t see color” Susan, “mmmm chocolate” Susan, “woke, but hates black women” Susan, “I didn’t date black guys until I didn’t lose this college weight” Susan, “I’m mixed” Susan, “Get Out was just a movie” Susan.  
*sigh* Dating is trash, yo.  I mean sure there’s silver linings, the Brandy is a good time when you hang out; with managed expectations, so is the Companion.  Perhaps, the Priority or the Marshawn will come around.  If you want a relationship (or sex) the Culminator is right there.  Maybe you can take a page out of the instagrammer’s book and just fake it all.  Apparently, there’s the 11th woman.  The one who is looking for a relationship, actually available to be in one and isn’t overly neurotic about it.  We can just call her, the Tinderella.  

-Stan- 

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Today’s Word is… STANDARDS

[Editors Note: Issa throwback…well, with a director’s cut.]


Attractive. Educated. Independent. Sweet. Confident. Compassionate.
(I just described most of my exes. Hell, I just described me.) 

Minimal baggage. Career. Non smoker. Social or not Drinker. Been in long term relationship. Classy.
(Still got most of my exes, a few eliminated, i’m still there)

Knows how to cook. Hair stays done. Always groomed. Puts it down in the sheets. Sense of style.  Body’s stacked.
(Still got some of my exes…no self respecting man will call themselves stacked, that’s where I bow out.)

5’9 and under. In shape.  Knows how to defer to a man. No trust issues. Diversified interests. Mentally stimulating. Great chemistry.
(I’m hearing chatter…now who do I think I am, what am I bringing to the table)

Low maintenance. Good with hanging out at home. Understands discretion.  Can make lasagna. Open minded in the bedroom. Wants kids. Fiscally responsible.
(This negreaux think he Idris or something…)

Standards are funny, as are the people love/hate them. No one ever has issue with standards unless it inconveniences them.  I don’t care that if you’re only chasing 6’4 lightskinned dudes you’re going to miss out on great guys, I care that I’m not 6’4 or lightskinned and I will never be, therefore I’m not invited to that table.  I didn’t want to sit there but now that I can’t, suddenly I want to sit there?  For who, for what? My list was very p.c, however if I got my mac on (You ever read something you wrote years ago and roll your eyes at how lame you were…this was one of those times) and said I want an exotic chick, hourglass figure, all natural…sistas would come for my head.  Reason #1, they’ll be damned if I don’t want them even if they don’t want me cuz…principality. Reason #2, who the hell am I to have such strong demands.

As you get older, and still single suddenly your standards are too blame.  The Beast could’ve let Belle just go have brunch with her girls and they would’ve told her that he’s tall AND has a whole castle, dont. block. ya. blessings. and she’d probably go right back.  Men don’t get it nearly as hard, I can probably hand wring myself to loneliness until at least 33.  Men aren’t told they are being unreasonable, or they are expecting perfection even when they are.  I have a homeboy who for the most part splurges on instajawns and to my knowledge never had an actual girlfriend.  I’m sure his mama might ask, but no one else cares.

Your standards represent you, your priorities, your traits, your aspirations.  It shows if you’re looking to just be treated good, f cked right, or want an actual relationship.  It shows your self confidence and what you believe you bring to the table.  Women say that men are constantly pestering them to lower their standards to accommodate them; I’m actually the opposite, show me you demand all that.  This goes both ways, you can’t be all over the club scene and social media and then demand someone who isn’t all over the club scene and social media.  You can’t demand a woman who’s cultured when all you watch is sports and action movies.  You can’t demand a man with his own place and a car when you staying at a homegirl’s and working part time.  I mean you can demand but spoiler alert, it won’t work out well for you.  Those independent, ambitious people you seek…well, they want other independent ambitious people.
There has to be some accountability for who you choose to let into your life, who you expect to come into your life and how they’re treated when they’re there.  The time spent on people who aren’t on “your level” adds up. It’s a lesson I’m still learning, my phone just full of women who I know weren’t what I was looking for, but #Ihaveneeds.  I can’t be taken seriously if I’m not taking my own standards seriously.  I know what I want and I’m not settling for less (maybe a few things, the lasagna game is non negotiable tho), in the meantime I #minuswhale use my time as productively as possible so I become the offer she can’t refuse.
-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… GIFTS

[Editors Note: Yeah, it’s a throwback. Merry Bhristmas and all that.  Be back next week. I think. Pretty sure tho.]

Tis the season to be jolly. Meh, not really. Anyway, Christmas time is around the corner and as we all make our lists and check it twice we stumble upon a boo that wasn’t there last year. New boos are hardest to get gifts for because obviously you don’t know them as well and you don’t know their own gifting ways. Ever get a gift for someone and get nothing in return, awkward. Ever do so a good 4-5 years in a row? Bah, humbug. Now, I’m an easy guy to shop for. I talk a lot about things I need or will treat myself to and because I’m a horrible procrastinator it’s very easy to beat me to the punch. I think men in general are like this, unless they are like Hurricane Buckfoy or some other lame, they don’t care about gifts they appreciate gestures that
a)showed you pay attention
b)takes something off their own to do list.

Women, I can say not so much. Feel free to disagree, but one of my favorite gifts last year was a new pair of clippers, buy a girl a blowdrier she’ll look sicker than an Alabama fan. Look at mother’s day sales, it’s for jewelry, flowers, spa trips. Father’s Day it’s tools and ties and sh t for work. Women appreciate spoils, men appreciate appreciation. It could all be so simple, but women rather make it hard when it comes to getting their #him a gift for Christmas, I’ve personally had my share of bad gifts. Some will be on this list of gifts not to get your man

The I Got Cash #struggleface

Cash- Where was you in the first paragraph, men like things they don’t have to get themselves. A couple years back, I asked “She” for an ipod touch, she apparently couldn’t find one and gave me the cash to get it myself, the cash went to bills and I haven’t had an ipod since. (Reminder this was written in 2012. iPod Touch…remember that was a thing?)

Gaming Consoles- There isn’t a man who wouldn’t appreciate an XBox One or PS4 (don’t get the PS4 Pro, it’s trash) this year but personally I’m just leery of any girlfriend making that large a purchase for someone unless it’s really real. Also the rule of thumb of gifts in general is don’t buy anything you can’t afford to replace.

Gift Cards that don’t cover sh*t– Gift cards are always the go to gifts right? However don’t get me a $20 gift card to Dick’s Sporting Goods and I can’t even buy a single item without shelling out my own money, it’s pretty much the equivalent of a coupon. Go hard or go home

Framed Picture– That’s for you not him. Something to put in his crib or office that lets everyone know you’ve arrived. If you’re going to go that route, go the extra mile and get a painting at least or something that shows you went beyond the neighborhood CVS

Clothes-Personally I don’t mind when a woman adds a touch of her own style to my wardrobe, I also prefer to do that while shopping together. Some men don’t even want that much, and rather not be bothered with what you think might look good on them. *side eyes my closet*

Wrong Item-If you don’t know, ask. I don’t know how one could mess up in a Google era but if you’re going to get him NBA 2K17, don’t get 2k16, if you’re going to get him a case for his tablet, make sure it fits. Nothing puts a damper on a holiday than striking out at the plate and knowing you can’t do anything about it until the next day. Hopefully, you’re doing the exchange (because again men like things they don’t have to get themselves)

Music-Unless he’s an avid collector, let’s be real no one buys music anymore, it’s streamed or downloaded now.

Some Assembly Required-Once again the ghost of Christmas past visits, I received one of those portable closet wardrobe thingys, it was something I did need at the time but, it came in a nice box with 40 pieces and only thing worse than going out and buying my gift is building it now if only I had some…

Tools– Unless it’s for their actual job, stay away from Home Depot this Holiday season (unless you’re buying a tree). I received a power drill once, it’s been useful to me over the years but bear in mind, I’m an accountant.

Colognes-Men who wear colognes know their colognes. Unless it’s something specific it’s probably better to leave it alone.

Now if you’ve bought any of these gifts or plan on it I suggest you go back to the drawing board, or talk to him and make sure he’s one of the exceptions. Otherwise, go with the 2 original guidelines, show you’ve been paying attention and get something he really didn’t want to have to get himself. If you haven’t then, are you sure that’s your man?

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… COMFORT


Studies show the actual feeling of “love” lasts about a year. Levels of a protein called nerve growth factors which causes sweaty palms and the feeling of butterflies, were significantly higher for those who just entered a relationship compared to those who have been in longer term ones.  After about a year, whIle you may feel like it’s the first time according to that sappy Facebook birthday post that people roll their eyes at and “like”, your brain has since adjusted, and is like….nigga, I guess.  It makes sense ideally, that rush you got when you lean in for the first kiss isn’t quite the same as when you just Netflix and Chilling and trying to get it cracking.   You don’t necessarily need to study chemistry to know that firsts are always lit.  (Except sex because whIle your brain is going crazy for that first time, it might take a few more times until y’all are more in tune with the others bodies and likes…but maybe that’s just me and shit..more on this later*) 

That first year love, that passionate, this person was a stranger and they’re my everything love, burns fast, hot, and intense and extinguishes just as swiftly (My specialty, as of late).  It’s something out of the movies, commonly what we associate with romance and passion.   Then on the other end of it there’s heartbreak, despair, building yourself up again.  We associate love with passion and heartache with not much in between.  An observation I could even make in my own writing, largely grand openings and grand closings.  It’s the Mary J Blige theory: no one really tryna hear happy Mary, only lovuh and secrehtare Mary.  (Recently divorced Mary probably in the booth right now…it’s finna be lit)

What isn’t shown as much, is what happens when you aren’t high off love, or going through it; the happy medium….the comfort.   That isnt to say, romance and passion is dead, but real relationships arent always dates, gifts and spontaneous sex.   You don’t have to plan a date to see them, they just swing by after work.  Texts aren’t a bunch of sweet nothings, yall are just dragging a mutual friend who seems to be in the same outfit in every Instagram pic.   It’s a natural progression unlike passion which is premeditated.  You go into dates hoping maybe y’all will hook up down the line, maybe you can delete that Okcupid account…you never enter a relationship expecting a level of comfort.  There’s no 90 day rule for seeing her with a bonnet, nor for you snatching it off during sex because you’re petty.  You don’t have a conversation about leaving toiletries at the crib or her wearing one of your hoodies home (there’s NEVER a conversation….damn I miss my dawgs).   Maybe you do remember the first time you said I love you, but you don’t remember saving Coupled on your DVR.  Comfort is my sister texts you and your coworkers recognize me. Comfort is “lol i was going to send you that”.  

Sometimes comfort can mean complacency;  you not unhappy, but you aren’t swooning daily either.  Just like a relationship that’s all passion will burn out, one of all comfort may not…mainly because you’re too lazy to date again.  It could all be so simple; marry someone stable and have your whirlwind romances on the side…but most of us don’t make enough to really pull that off.  Kidding…mostly.  Passion and comfort is a juggling act most fail at (see 50% divorce rate) but I’m a hopeful romantic.   I’m might be a bit more chill than passionate (like most men), my love language is quality time (because thats the type of shit you do when you’re comfortable…maybe theres a passion/comfort quiz…I’ll check buzzfeed later).  Too much passion is like cooking with the flame too high, hotter doesn’t mean faster. (shoutout all the chicken, rice and cookware lost in this struggle…I’m a better cook now tho).   

As we get more comfortable, oxytocin and vasopressin intensifies in the brain and makes us want to belong and protect. Its a bond not much unlike parent to child.  So lust for a year, then bond for a lifetime.  It could all be so simple.  Until, someone throws their marriage away over a fling….Brad Pitt. 

-Stan-

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Today’s Word is… UNREQUITED

I believe those ghost hunters shows are full of shit.  I believe Adnan did it. I believe we aren’t alone in the Universe.  I believe Jay Z really cheated.  I don’t believe unrequited love is really love.  Perhaps I’m a love purist, I believe love starts at reciprocity.  I don’t believe that you can truly love someone whonever loved you back, that it’s longing, its projection, its not love.  Maybe that’s the INFJ in me, I require balance, returned affection,  shared energy or I shut down.  I can’t see myself tirelessly trying to make fetch happen and getting nothing in return.  I was having this conversation with a friend who disagreed vehemently.  Who was I to discount someone’s feelings? It’s arrogance.  I guess….but I’m not so much dismissing feelings as much as I’m wondering aloud, what are you loving?  

I’ve been on both sides of this coin, piner and pinee…truthfully I don’t know which is worse. (Piner is worse)  For most of my early life my “love” was unreturned, I fell hard and fast for anyone who paid me any mind.  I said I love you because it felt like what you were supposed to do, I got curved and you couldn’t tell me Lenny Williams and I wasn’t feeling the same pain.  Except, he was literally losing his world and I barely knew this girl.  He reminiscing the kisses, the moments, the love and I was really really sure I maybe might could like her.  It was practically the same thing. All curves matter yo.  You couldn’t tell me my pain wasn’t real…eventually I could tho.  I can look back and say I was doing the most. Rejection sucks, but I didn’t love those women.  I didn’t know them enough to love them, they didn’t know me enough to love me. 

As the pinee, it’s…awkward.  Sometimes I even wish I could return the feelings just because I hate uncomfortable situations.  I can admit I was a little naive in the past, I flirted, I teased completely oblivious to the feelings my actions my engender.  Sometimes I just assume they know better than to actually shoot their shot.  But feelings gon feel I suppose. Nevertheless,it still wasn’t love they felt.  They never seen me in a romantic light to love me.  Ask them why they love me and its all about possibles and singing if weeeeeeee like Jeremih. Full disclosure,  I’m awesome, but all they know is what seems like a really good idea.  Which is all well and good but…still not love.  Especially when all I’m giving in return is jokes and the occasional compliment.  I don’t even deserve it, really. How did we get here?

So what do you call these unreturned, projected feels? Is unrequited love already considered a lower quality of love so much so we can let them sit with us?  Nigga, I guess.  Love is beautiful, magical, freeing…yet these days its so commonly associated with hurt and heartbreak.  Unrequited jawns feel their love is the same because the hurt hurts but if you’ve never felt the high that mutual healthy love has given you…you doing it wrong. Stressing about exes you never dated, loving people who never earned it. Y’all got it.  Maybe I’m splitting hairs here. Unrequited love can come to the cookout. Better bring ice and foil at least.

-Stan-

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