for reals yo

He told me that I needed to play the game. I protested. I don’t like games for real life. I don’t want the cat and mouse chase. I’m done with that. He gives me the advice of letting the boy have to work for it. Yeah, no, I say. He says that the boy is probably just using the defense of keeping me at a distance, that he could be scared and protecting himself. I can appreciate that, but there is line between being guarded and not being respectful and appreciative. Why, after I’ve decided to let this go, do I let it come back in?

This is not what I want. I want, “Yo, your important to me and I will make time for you,” not the “I can’t talk long, lunch” over IM. And “sorry I haven’t been online lately,” doesn’t make up for the week and a half of silence. I want phone calls in lieu of emails or instant messages. You have my number, USE IT! Because, when phones are available, then who cares about online? And who here has the self-proclaimed fear of commitment? Uh, ME so what are YOU doing? If I’m not scared then for lord’s sake, snap outta it. And stop telling me that I’m a sweetheart and that we’ll make a great couple. A couple we will make not if you wimp out on this.

We all come to a crossroads at some point in our love life. We get to the point where playing the game of “I’m not going to admit that I like you. Instead, I’m going to sound aloof and busy, busy, busy” is ridiculous and just wastes energy. I leave games for times with my 8-year-old nephew. He loves UNO and UNO is what you’ll be playing if you want me to be the mouse to your cat. I just don’t play that way. You’re interested. I’m intrigued. So lay the cards on the table and show your stuff before I call your bluff. Because here I am, all bruised and battered and open and real. That’s right REAL. I won’t give you a spiced up, wistful version of the girl you think I am. I’m here, with battle scars and a clean slate. And you need to be here too. So just pick up the phone.