IF words were actions we’d all be in love with the person feeding us everything we want to hear.
It’s easy to class all men as wanting pu$$y because it’s true. All men want it, but we as women have to figure out which want us and which want just the sex.
Earlier this week, I met a man we’ll call him George for privacy purposes. George said all the things I wanted to hear. It was as if he knew I was so tired of what was being offered to me as a woman and wanted something real.
He complimented my hair, my body, my personality and anything else he could have thought about. At first, I was soaking in the comments but as he continued throughout the night I began to question his intentions.
He told me what he’d been doing career wise and what he wanted to do. It sounded interesting but for someone who is the same age at me my expectations for you are usually to be at the level I’m at if not beyond. Maybe I’m too ambitious, just maybe.
But he had his dreams, and everyone is allowed to dream as long as they’re working towards their dreams. He said he was working as the assistant to a hotel’s General Manager but he was going back to school. In a little less than an hour, I knew of his plans, his dreams and his former relationships.
How’s that for conversation? We exchanged numbers and agreed to keep in contact. I left the location to return shortly and he left to go home or so he told me. On my way back, I looked down on my phone and had 5 missed calls. To some this indicates eagerness. For me, I sensed a stalker.
I returned his call to be asked where I was. When I responded he said he’d meet me back to the location we previously met. I said no thanks, but he came anyway.
It was when we both returned, George transformed in the most neediest man I’ve ever met. He interrupted conversations I was having to know if he could have stayed, he was foot to foot behind me until I decided I’d give him the attention he craved. We went outside to speak.
Outside he’s giving me the words that sound as if they’re straight out a Boys II Men album and the only thing missing now is the microphones and the rhythm clap. It was nice and refreshing, I’ll be honest, but after the first 5 minutes I had a headache.
From all the conversations I realized he’s living in the moment. I’m not certain which moment, but he’s attempting to re enact YOLO! He tells me that he’s been looking to settle down and he wants something real. By something real, he held my hand for two seconds and then said to me, “Baby let me marry you.”
After dating the man of my dreams, after a year I’d love to hear this statement. But from fast moving George? All I heard was “Run like hell, Baby!” I guess we all want the same things, but when you use what you want to get in someone’s pants should we judge you differently?
It turns out that he expected me to drop my pants the same night he met me, when it didn’t happen I didn’t hear from him again. He doesn’t work for where he said he does. He doesn’t play on the sport team that he claimed he did. So I’m left to wonder if George was his real name and what was he hiding from?
I…Never realized until this week that men lied about who they were. I thought only women gave fake names, when she didn’t want to be bothered. But George gave me everything fake to get the one thing that’s real.
I guess we all sin differently would be an understatement