I’m a people person. Always have been, probably always will be. I understand and value human life. I probably value human life more than you do. I enjoy talking to people, listening to their stories, thoughts, and perspectives. I love learning about heritages and culture. And after all, my major did find me. Anthropology that is. No, I don’t study rocks as my father thinks, but I do enjoy studying humans. After all, everybody only cares about money, but money cannot grow in a womb for 9 months, it does not have a heartbeat, it cannot conduct or carry a conversation. Yet, money has more value than human life.
For someone who claims to know me so well, you should know this about me and not have a problem with the fact that I am in fact friendly. That’s what my mother raised me to be. Not some bitter misanthrope, because your mother raised you that way. That’s what they (the powers that be) want you to be. A miserable, unfriendly, close-minded, inexperienced, slither of a human. By Limiting socialization and human contact with technology and money. If that’s who you are, you can keep that. I don’t want any parts of it.
They say, it’s not what you do, but who you know. I would think that someone who knows about networking and human contact, you would understand. But for some reason, it just won’t register in your thick skull. For some reason you equate my friendliness for infidelity or whatever insecurity you may have. Well guess what? Yes, I’m friendly and why would you want to change that about me? And why should I have to? It all boils down to trust, and clearly, you don’t trust me. You think I’m you. Socializing and flirting with others, or lying about my relationship status when that is clearly not the case. I’m a bitch and a hoe for speaking my mind and being friendly.
I can’t help but chuckle at your misogynistic bullshit. You were raised in this system, it isn’t your fault.. or at least it wasn’t but since you met me a year and change ago, I pointed out your misogynist ways and attitudes, in hopes that they would change. But they haven’t. You cannot handle that I am headstrong, dominant, and that I speak my mind; whether you want to hear it or not. You cannot take constructive criticism, even if it is for your benefit, especially if it comes from me, because you feel that a woman’s words don’t hold the same weight. You haven’t directly said it, but your actions and lack of heeding to my advice shows me that. I can tell you some information first or make a suggestion, and you won’t bat an eye, but the minute someone else says it (a man) you hop and skip to it.
I’m a communicator. I enjoy conversation. You know that already. But for some reason, when it comes to communication, you act as if you don’t know what I expect and what I don’t tolerate. I’ve told you plenty of times before, but quite frankly baby, I’m tired of repeating myself. I’m tired of explaining myself to you. I’ve grown weary with exhaustion from your excuses. What is so hard about speaking to me? What’s so hard about calling me and letting me know you were checking on me, or texting me, letting me know you’re thinking about me? Why must you make the most simplest shit, the most difficult. I’m not asking you to send a fucking rocket ship to the moon nigga, I’m asking you to be proactive and communicate. I shouldn’t have to be the one ALWAYS calling and texting you. Why can’t you call or text me? Why do you let so many hours go by without speaking to me? If I don’t hit you up at all, would I even hear from you? I’m tired of the excuses. You have all the time in the world, yet for some reason, you can’t make time for me. I guess I’m not worth your time. Out of sight, out of mind. Put yourself in my shoes for once. Don’t make me give you a dose of your own medicine. We know my middle name is Petty Labelle, and I try my hardest not to be petty, because it would only make things worse.
But, honestly… you’re not making this easy for me. You make me feel as though you’re not working with me, you’re working against me. There’s no excuse as to why I don’t hear from you. I’m not for it. I’m not tolerating the disrespect. Either get it together and be the people person you pretend to be in the street with your peoples, or just do us both a favor and stop wasting my time. If you can’t hold it down and communicate, when you know what I expect, after all this time, then I SERIOUSLY can’t fuck with you. I see it as you being spiteful, and I’m not here for it. Get your shit together or get lost.
A Friendly Ass Bitch.