Well, an old friend called me up and asked to “stop by” mind you its 10:15pm on a Wednesday night he aint stopping by for milk and cookies. Well he is if you can figure out the metaphor. An-Tee-way…I’m trying to drive the conversation to navigate down Family Road, Weather Avenue, How’s Work Lane, but it somehow keeps coming back to I’d like to see you Boulevard. I’ll give a little history on our friendship. Sometime back in my less than responsible and carefree 20’s we dated, or some variation of dating, nothing ever too serious and it never stuck. He was cool enough and I’m a very nice person (lol) so we stayed friends, not really connected but every couple of years hey you…hey you can i see you…type of friends. So here we are at that every so often hey you mark and he’s engaged and shouting to the world (and by world I mean posting on social media) how much he loves his woman and how he can’t wait to marry her and how she makes him the happiest man in the world. Of course I’m congratulatory and happy for him, but a small tiny little part of me is curious to know why he’s trying to see me if he’s so blissfully happy. Now if the pot is smoking chances are the water is hot you don’t really have to put your finger in it to test the water and be sure, but we do it anyway. Besides shoot, just because he comes over to see me and catch up does not require me to give him any. I am living a happily celibate life and I’m not compromising it for an old friend who’s engaged. No sir, no madam, no thank you. I’m grown I can handle seeing an old friend. So I digress and agree to let him come by and catch up. I’m casually dressed in comfy leggings and a football jersey. You know giving that home girl but I’m still sexy look. I mean for me not him.
He comes through, I open the door…and did he lose weight? He hugs me, tightly and wait has this mofo been working out? The hug starts to feel more like an invitation than a greeting so I start to relax my embrace because what is that scent he’s wearing? I mean that’s the only reason I lingered in his embrace trying to figure out the fragrance. I offer him a seat, he sits in the love seat, and I sit on the single chair and asks how his parents are. We have chit chat for about ten minutes, and for me its awkward and slightly uncomfortable. i offer him a drink, he follows me to the kitchen and hugs me from behind as I am making it. He admires my place, asks to look around I say sure, He compliments my taste and decor, goes to check out the upstairs and I have one foot on the stair to follow him up but I hesitate, I can’t cheat with this man. But why am I the cheater, I’m single!
“He is the one that’s engaged” self says to self “and it aint to you” I guess at the end of the day when you Bout That Single Life you have a right to make choices and an obligation to respect the woman who’s is in a situation where you want to be, even if her man wont.
Flip side, you also have the right to run up those stairs and meet him where he is and the obligation to respect your body’s call. IJS