So, it happened again, huh?
You met a pretty, melanin filled, afro fleeking, dashiki wearing, Black power spitting Sista. Ya'll exchanged numbers. Social media information. Ya'll go back and forth flirting. She sends you sexy selfies (no nudes because she says "She ain't that type of woman") You even go on a few dates. You met a few of her friends. She meets a few of yours. Vibes are nice. She's not down with the reality TV show craze. She got a degree or two. She got her head on straight. Attitude ain't that bad. You thinking "This shit just may be legit." She don't have you ready to make her a #WCW (because you don't want your homeboys knowing that you done found a BANGER) but she got you subconsciously slowing up on the sexual memes that you post; she got you reading belle hooks and Angela Davis; Hell, you even down to go see the Barack and Michelle "Southside With You" movie.
Then you fuck.
And things are still going decently - not titles because "She's been hurt before" and "doesn't want to risk being hurt again" and you are with it - hell, you've been hurt, too - so the concept of a home cooked meal, good conversation, and a little consensual sex action is right up your alley. AND SHE LIKES SPORTS. You get upgrade from sexy selfies to nice, classy nudes ("I trust you" is what she says. "I know you won't put me out there in a bad way") You feeling like you done hit the low key lotto - not even the million dollar one. Just the basic $10K dollar lotto so you can get a few things cleared up and move on about your life.
Then it all just....stops.
Her texts and calls about your day drop from several a day to maybe three times a week. The sexy pictures end. Long paragraphs about her day or how she feels now are only about two sentences long - if you even get a response. And now, big fella, you are in your apartment, staring at your PS4, trying to get your mind off of her because "she wasn't your girl in the first place." (which we will address in the blog one day soon) You got the Drake going. You've had a few one night stands. Your boys gone brought you drinks and weed, trying to make you forget about her ("Man, there are plenty of fish in the sea!" They say)
But for some reason, she lingers.
A little truth for you, honey.
You did nothing wrong.
Sometimes - a woman just isn't into you. Even when she appears to be. Even when she is desperately trying to be. It doesn't matter how much she cooked for you. It doesn't really matter how much she listened to your problems. It doesn't matter how she made your dick feel.
You wasn't it, fam.
Listen, some women are just callous. And hurt. And bitter. And not over their exes. And filled with momma issues. And harboring father issues. And bad at dealing with stress. And scared. All those reasons that you and your homeboys use not to commit to a woman - or use to leave her high and dry - are applied to women too. Why? Because we are human. We are frail, just as you are. It doesn't make her a bad person. Just means she wasn't the person for you, no matter how you felt about her - or did feel and didn't want to admit to her at the time.
Sometimes, you gotta swallow the truth that the one you think is for you, ain't for you.
So look....go listen to a little more Drake. Drink some more Henny. Go ahead and shed that tear that you've been holding back since the last text that she didn't respond to. And once your done - WORK ON YOU.
For you.
