Felipe Campos (egoiste) wrote,
Felipe Campos
egoiste

neither trick nor treat

He opened up to me. He told me he was finally in a place in his life where he's happy. He had been dancing on and off with me Saturday, and has done so for a few months now, with our mutual friend. He asked if I was happy and I said no. He asked what would make me happy and I said a drink. No not red bull. A real drink.

I don't think people are prepared for some of the answers I give. First, to admit I'm not happy. Second, to say I'd love a drink. Maybe they can understand that part, but unless they've had to quit an addiction, they really dont. Even catholics who fast know they can do it again, and what catholic gives up stuff that can kill them anyway?

Here's the hardest part. He asks again besides that, because maybe he does understand, or tries to, what would it take to make me happy. I tell him I don't know.

Isn't it the not knowing that's the hardest? Am I unhappy? No. Frankly, I think it's a stupid question really. Who's happy all the time? People should ask, perhaps, are you, in this moment, happy?

They played Basement Jaxx's Hey U. When the chorus builds into that first Heeeeey Uuuuuuu! I am truly happy. I'm doing something I love. I'm looking hot with my white spiker colorz hair sprinkled with glitter as I samba and smile at any friends who can see.
Happiness is as spotty as the onset of a menstrual cycle maybe. It's episodic. Don't ask me if I'm happy as if it was a constant rule of the universe.

He asks if I always go home alone. I say yes. He asks if I'm going to that night too. I say yes. He doesnt look crushed, just wistful, as if he turns his head and narrows his eyes a certain way it can sway my choice.

A bitch should get fair warning. She'd clean up her bathroom and put away the dirty socks before she goes out!

He's attractive but not hot. Hot can be anything really. But for me hot means from the moment I saw them my heart throbbed and my stomach knotted. That's not him. Sometimes this can develop through relationships, this sexual attraction, but I'm not there yet with him. I could see from conversations that he's shopping, or at the very least open to dating again after an arduous breakup. Homie don't even have my phone number to get on that road.

I told spiffie if I'd hooked up with him for sex, when I was done, I'd have no use for him again. I'm a pig. Even if the sexing was good. It's kind of like a drug that people say you have to try at least once in your life? Or something. Been there done that over it.

Yes I could have just said yes. But I'm a princess. A princess deserves better.

I think I overthink.
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