By: Leslie Latrel
When you wake up singing B.B. King…damn…you know that it’s over. And when you don’t have “the blues” because you are actually singing the blues…damn…you know it wasn’t much to begin with in the first place. It just sucks that you have another addition to add to the edition of “Another One Has Bit the Damn Dust.”
The old blues man and his electric guitar is singing “The Thrill is Gone” over and over in my head and I know the monotony is about to set in again. The all work and –no fingers to suck on—routine is about to become the norm. Don’t act like you’re a stranger to the finger sucking; the playful nibbling while you are lost in the moment while the rest of him is …everywhere. Chest to chest, then chest to back, then straddling from up high and submitting from down low and the other positions you don’t need a Karma Sutra book illustration to imagine. But wasn’t that all it was; animal attraction from the polar opposites?
We had absolutely nothing else in common…except the fact that we were both workaholics…so when those small windows of opportunities became available and we could actually get some “face time,” it quickly turned into an hours-long (yes, plural) make-out session where we would do nothing…but…each other.
As accidentally as it began is as casually as it ended, because no matter how dynamic sex can be, a woman needs a bit more in her life—eventually.
When cancellations become the expected, you know there is something else going on. But instead of being suspicious that the rooster is “plucking” with other hens, you are just really more insulted that the brother is passing up on “all of this” as they say. A woman’s ego, once bruised, will certainly send the signals to her brain that it is time to crank up the BB and add another skeleton to the relationship boneyard.
It is true what they say, a man will MAKE TIME for what he wants to…and if he never has time for you…then frankly, my dear, he’s just not that into you. Accept it, and move on.
It is just puzzling though, when you were not bothering anyone, not looking for anyone and was minding your own business…why…did a man who knew he was unavailable…pursue you. Now immediately after asking yourself that question, you feel ashamed because you already know the answer to it: Because that’s the way men are!
A pretty face and a firm ass puts you on the battlefield; and the Mighty Conqueror just considers you a casualty of war. It’s a battle of the sexes, a war of our hearts and a fight with every collective beast from his past –from the absentee father, to the overbearing mother, the psychotic ex-girlfriend and the cheating baby mama.
All of those are factors that you are dealing with; before the phone numbers are exchanged and the “Good morning sweetie, have a nice day at work” text messages begin. Speaking of which, most of that is all a fucking formality; knowing that the person is just laying virtual rose petals to the bed and could really care less if you spilled hot coffee on your shirt or a keyboard exploded in your face.
“Have a nice day” is a lazy playboy’s way of saying “Hey, I’m here, waiting patiently for the panties to drop.” Because after they do and a little time has passed, one day you’ll glance at the cell phone and realize it’s quitting time and you hadn’t been wished a “Nice Day” all damn day. Then the several times a day phone calls reduce to once daily, then a couple of times a week and a catch up call on the weekend, if you’re lucky.
Then you’ll wake up, refreshed and without a care in the world, singing “The Thrill Is Gone” with a smirk and a chuckle. What’s a woman to do? Nothing. No advice here….because it’s the luck of the draw sometimes. Sometimes it’s a match, sometimes it’s a hit or miss..and depending on the season, you could have just been a victim of “the cuff”….but nonetheless… it WAS a THRILL…too bad it’ gone, baby.
Related/ Read up on a lil’ background: