People keep telling me that I was a serial monogamist because I thought I needed it.
I kept trying to tell those hoes that wasn’t the case. It just happened that way.
Now, it just happens to be that I’m single. and have been for a while. I predict I’ll be this way for another long bit of time. And I am more than okay with that.
I have books I want to read, a bed completely to myself, I make plans that rarely ever fall through and when I reschedule with myself it always. happens.when I say it will.
I laugh at things I find funny. I understand myself, my jokes, my flaws, all my inner workings. And when I learn something new about myself, I surprise myself. And it is always a pleasant or curious surprise.
I revel in my quirks, like how I enjoy curling up with warm inanimate objects like my laptop when I’m lazy on the couch…or a bowl of nacho cheese and tortilla chips. or my giant mug of yerba mate tea.
I don’t make myself cry. When I hurt, I comfort myself. When I feel pain or need to be alone, I understand.
I am the best fucking friend, worst enemy, and best lover I’ve got.
Stop trying to make me go out on dates you fuckwads.