When I was just a mere innocent pup at the age of 5 in this thing called life, my Uncle dropped a major jewel on me. I was too young to understand what he said then but that wisdom rings loud and true now.
"Bitches are bitches, but niggas are bitches too"
So simple yet so powerful. 19 years later, the world has resonated to call this bitchassness.
Did I know in the beginning I was getting involved with a bitch ass dude...of course not. No one willingly agrees to enter into a relationship with a dude that has ovaries. I was hoodwinked...bamboozled...I didn't land on bitchassness, bitchassness landed on me...if you will. The friendship matured normally at first. We dated, got to know each other, and feelings started to develop. It was wonderful...until ol boy started getting caught up all in his emotions. I couldn't even joke with him without his chest getting tight and him getting vex over a joke. A joke that I made a week before that he laughed at but I guess wasn't funny then. What happened?! Well let me tell you...
He started liking me and got nervous about how "open" he was feeling. He went in to protection mode at the possibilty of being hurt or rejected. It was "I like you so much" one minute, then "I can't stand you" the next. Ummmm, are you having mood swing sir? Confusion can't even explain what I was feeling. I was getting to the point where I was hypothesizing that the dude has to be skeetin estrogen.
Every single conversation ended in a knock down drag out argument; starting with innocent conversation, then a harmless comment is made by moi which he takes, twists, hammers, braids, and molds the comment into something it wasn't even intended to mean (sounds like a bitch right?). Son admits to me one day that the reason he is so mean to me is because he likes me (so you're a five year old?). I'm fed up at this point and am completely over him. When we argue I don't even get upset due to me being emotionally detached from him & the bullshit. I find myself hitting him up when I'm bored just to start an argument so that I can laugh when he transforms into the decepticon, "Megapussy." Each time I text him "do you shave your vagina" or "wipe between your legs homie, you're bleeding" I am convinced more and more that what he's really upset about is that I know his secret. His manhood has come into question because he allowed himself to be reduced down to the one thing a man's man never wants to be seen as. Yet I had no sympathy. I had reach my limit and a man acting like his balls stored eggs was very unbecoming. Cool it homie. It's never that serious. I get cramps too.
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