The Right Stuff
I’ve always been a firm believer that relationships end the way they start. Until one couple-non-couple-kinda-booty-call-turned-kinda-not-anymore proved me wrong, and a homie convinced me otherwise. They both need more people if you ask me, but while I still believe that you set the tone in the beginning I guess there is an exception to every rule.
I asked one of the biggest assholes I know if a booty-call could ever transition into a potential girlfriend, or if there was no turning back. He replied, “Yes. There’s a possibility.” Now why you wanna go and do that love huh?
If there’s anything I’ve learned about men, it’s right time >>> right girl. So when I met a man that had just gotten out of a “situation,” I thought he was the perfect candidate for a no-fuss no-must type relationship. There would be no questioning his intentions, or wondering what we were. In other words, I thought he would be the perfect booty-call. What I failed to remind myself (twice again) was; I am horrible at booty-calls. I am however, getting better at realizing this.
So I stopped it before I fucked shit up.
And I know it’s too late to take things back now, and actually I don’t think I would even if I could. I don’t even wish this man was less busy for me, because the reason why he’s so busy is one of the reasons why I’m so intrigued. I would however like him to know that while I’m not perfect, I’m pretty fucking awesome.
So just to let him you know, I wanted to be an English teacher or fashion designer growing up. My Marvel Comic card collection would’ve SHIT on yours, promise. I was voted “Most creative” during my senior banquet. I wanted to live in New York all my life but I changed my mind after my last vacation there. I drive a stick-shift named Kirby. I love animals, especially dogs. I graduated in 2006, and was a Fil-grad keynote speaker. I’ve never smoked a cigarette. Ever. One of my favorite love stories is Carlito’s Way. I once fell getting on the ski-lift. I used to have a fascination for font. I’m as witty as I am corny. I think too much, and have the imagination of a 5 year-old. I’m kinda a hypochondriac. Oh, and I’m kinda weird.
Most of all, I’m a good girl. And I’m a good friend. There are very few things I can say with confidence, but I’d make a good girlfriend. Now, I’m not saying that I want to be your girlfriend. Fuck, I barely even know you to “like” you. But I do know that I wouldn’t mind getting to know you more.
So. Maybe in the future … after you’ve gotten everything out of the way and, you’ll remember this. When you do, I hope you’ll remember and think, “Abi, yeah she was pretty cool. I wonder what she’s been up to?” And maybe then if it’s the right time, we can see if I’m the right girl.