Day 71-72: Spear-o-damus

Whenever you are just about to go on your periods, life sorta colludes in making the PMS that much more potent.

My gal,Ms Fabulous,was kind enough to let me in on a little secret. Albeit five days later. As Mother Dearest would say, 'molato ga o bole'. The spelling is probably incorrect but the Tswana loosely translates into 'a problem never rots/goes bad no matter how long it's been there'. She often says it when we are watching a soapie or those Forgive and Forget type shows when the victim finally gets retribution or more specifically, the evil woman gets bust for all her plotting. The idiom couldn't be more fitting right now, with nearly a week having passed.



It turns out that Shorty was all cuddly-couple on Thursday at Mos Def. And I have a sneaky suspicion that this is the same short shorts Miss Thang from that one do we attended together, end of last month. Remember he disappeared for a minute. And had some cock n bull story to go with it.

On top of that, this chick was apparently using my digicam to snap pictures with him! So that would explain why he still hasn't returned the cam coz it's probably still filled with incriminating evidence. It's actually quite pitiful. Besides being filled with his indiscretions, the cam also probably has some dope pics of Thursday's performances... But this numb-nut can't begin to share these coz Miss Thang will probably wonder where the rest of the luvey-dovey pictures are.

Dirt of my shoulder. Finally the tongue-burn has occurred. About damn time. And again, thank goodness, I never gave it up. To think I felt bad for comforting FFB coz of his ailing aunt meanwhile, Mr Man is playing with my feelings. Ait. I been helping get his stuff together, offering some advice, only to be repaid like this.

But now that nigga got my shit. My camera. My charger and plug. My jersey. My lip-gloss. Lol... Dude, this would explain why he didn't want me to go fetch his phone when he had forgotten it in the car, on Sunday. His guilty conscious. I wouldn't have looked through it but I guess he would rather be safe than sorry. With my luck, it probably would've rang in my hands.

Now, I hate to say I told you so. But I did. I been saying that something's off. That I don't trust this nigga. Now I know. So my gut is working. Relief. Thank goodness it ain't paranoia. I really couldn't deal.

What's worse is that I'm apparently the other woman, [yet again! After specifically telling this nigga that I don't want drama. Ya neh. So much for respecting my quest for truth]. This chic is apparently widely known as his girlfriend. Classy. Poor chick. Poor me.

Yeah, that's enough self-pity. In fact, I ain't privy to any. I knew. I did. You probably knew too. I broke every rule of the how to tell that 'He's Just Not That Into You' list by listening to him claim to be digging me, missing me, trusting me... And most of all being single and tryna see where we go. I listened to him. Instead of my gut.

I'm tired. Absolutely exhausted. This nigga managed to play me despite my best intentions. So it is kinda like Paul again. In fact it is. I trusted somebody who is clearly not to be trusted. Dude! And how many times did I tell him that honesty is the single most important thing to me? Oh but he made so much effort to see me? Ms Fabulous says that playas get off looking as though they put in some effort. It ain't nothin but a thing to them. I'm easily impressed, clearly. I mean he saw this chic Thursday night only to call me the following day and hang with me that night. And Sunday night. He apologised for not doing so yesterday. Wow. And drive me home. And pick me up.

So now that we know he's triflin', do we call him and scream into the phone? Nah, not my style. Anger ain't a real emotion. I'm hurting. Down but not out. So I need to chill. This been going on for a minute so what's it gonna hurt to only voice my hurt later? Coz I may be nicer later? Nice ain't truth when I really just wanna hang him by his fat-ass.

Not my style either. Any guy that deserves to make you feel like literally killing him, doesn't deserve your time. You giving him way more attention than he deserves so walk away.

So my way of venting is blogging coz life will sort him out. It ain't my steez to teach a grown man. It took a lot for me to call him today and not call him a big fat liar. I played it cool and even cold but requested that he please bring my cam back coz I need it. Bull. He promised tomorrow. I just wanted to get off the phone quickly so it completely slipped my mind to ask him to drop my stuff off with security if he happens to go past the office tonight.

I'm not up to seeing him. I'm hella disgusted. The thought of second base is even having the opposite effect. Not even a lil smile.

So how am I gonna deal with this? If the opportunity presents itself, I'll tell him what I know and that I'm out. Either way, by reading this, he'll know that I'm done. Peace nucca!