Sometimes I wonder am I a player or am I playing myself? Like am I cheating myself or as my uncle would say “Playing with my OWN a$$” or am really causing the grief I THINK I am causing to these fellas. Once, I told someone I could make them fall in love with me and I can and I am not being cocky, but I can’t not share my secrets and it has nothing to do with sex and I am pretty sure this is a run on sentence. My point for all of that is that I wonder if really I am kidding myself and the mind F*** is not being cause by me but to me by the idiot on the other end. This whole thought occurred as I flirted with one of my sweetie doo wops who, I think the word is, swoons for my affection that I simply cannot give because I don’t agree with affection giving all willie nille and by affections I mean sex (if you want to get technical). Anyway…I say some magical words that get in his head and I don’t know why because any response he gives will be ignored and only thought as more pursuits for something that I can relinquish so why bother with the flirting….it’s sort of like another saying from my uncle “don’t write the check that you’re a$$ can’t cash.”
I guess sometimes my flirtations, as much as it can make me feel good, leaves me sort of depressed too. You say a little something, they say a little something, you say something like, good seeing you today next thing you know there is a picture text of a penis on your phone…yikes…which is when you: “Get away!”
I guess the depressing part of this is the fact that you learn very soon that the flirtations will amount to nothing more that… flirtations…in some cases it’s not even the dude who is playing themselves it’s you…or in this case me…I already know I don’t have the cash to take care of the check and my bank account doesn’t have overdraft protection…therefore the answer to my wondering is…yes I am playing myself….But I am what I am…
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