i wish i was asexual

i was about to title this "i wish i was a lesbian", but i'm pretty sure i would be having the same problems i'm having now only with women, and that may very well be worse than having problems with men. so i'll stick with, "i wish i was asexual", so i wouldn't have to deal with either. and if i can't be asexual, then i wish i'd grown up surrounded by male figures who bestowed in me the male love and "fuck you very much" mentality that i so desperately need and so inherently lack. but alas, i am neither asexual nor built on a foundation of male love. if i was either of those, i would not be so pissed off that that boy has been back in this city for nearly 12 hours and he has made no arrangements to see me. motherfucker.
let me start from the beginning.

so today was the day. today was the day that he was set to return after his month long, godforsaken hiatus. today. 1 month and 4 days since he was last here. 1 month and 7 days since the last time i'd seen him. needless to say, i'd been eagerly anticipating this day, as only a naive bitch could. we boy-talked briefly on sunday (boy-talk is my new term for text messaging) about football. i took his boy-talking as a good sign..."ah, yes. he's about to come back. he's reaching out, communicating, getting back in the swing of things. well done, boy. well done." monday passed, and tuesday came, and i was...not ecstatic, but i was genuinely relieved and happy that the day had finally arrived. NOT that i expected to see him today, but at least, i thought, he will be in the same city and my wait will (just about) be over.

a little before 2 this afternoon, i received a text message from him. another good sign, i thought. he's arrived, AND he's letting me know that he's here...AND making arrangements to see me...i hope. the message read:

I'm baaaaack in l.a. Going to stay at my brother's for a few days while he is out of town and i look for a new joint...come on over one of these nights!

now, in theory, i should have been happy about this right? the part of me that reads about boys and their behavior insists that i should have been content with this outreach. but i wasn't. i found something horribly wrong with it. "come on over one of these nights"? "come on over
one of these nights"? what the fuck is that? i'm not trying to install your goddamn bootleg cable or play gin rummy asshole. or see your new fucking kitty cat. i'm trying to catch up on some of that quality time that i've lacked for the past 38 (and counting) days. the same quality time that YOU should have been missing too. "come on over one of these nights" is not a plan. it is some casual bullshit that suggests nonchalance. so as this anger started to bubble up on my insides, the rational side of me (the same one that reads about boys) wanted to know WHY i was so mad.

"why?" that bitch demanded. "why are you mad now? the boy contacted you when he arrived. it's not like he waited a day or two. he invited you to come over (in a general sense). he put an exclamation point at the end of his boy-talk. what the fuck do you want, snatch?"
truth be told, i wanted him to be eager and excited. i wanted him to excited to see me. i wanted him to be as eager to see me as he would be for a free sample of pussy-flavored lollipops. i wanted some goddmamn enthusiasm. i wanted it...and simultaneously knew i wouldn't get it and should never expect it. and maybe...maybe this is his version of enthusiasm. maybe...i told myself. and i was actually sort of willing to run with that idea...NINE HOURS AGO.

17 minutes after he sent his message, i responded with:
Oh, fiiiiiinally. Well, if you are inviting me then i guess you can let me know a day. As long as your brother wont mind.

NINE HOURS ago i said that. NINE HOURS AGO. and he has said what? nothing. now, looka-here. your ass ain't working. you JUST got back in town, so i know you ain't got a bunch of shit to do. you can only look at apartments during the daylight hours, so what THE FUCK are you doing? oh, oh, ohhhh. i get it. oh, you want to do that shit where you pretend that you're not that eager. oh, okay. i get it. OR BETTER YET, maybe you really aren't that interested. fine. either way, you can fuck yourself with that.

god, i sound so evil right now. and i'm sorry. i think it's because i've been watching all these women with claws and fangs fuck people up in my true blood marathon, and i'm experiencing a little life-imitating-art here. anyway, i'm just frustrated. i sort of feel foolish -- for being pissed that he hasn't made a plan but also for waiting all this time and wanting the reunion to be a gloriously anticipated, fantastically realized one for both of us. i wanted it to be more like the NKOTB reunion, not like the NEW EDITION reunion where bobby brown didn't even show up because he was in jail or on crack or just didn't give a shit. furthermore, i feel foolish because earlier this evening i was on all fours in front of this woman with my drawz off, getting hot wax spread down the crack of my ass and then SNATCHED off for the back-half of a brazilian. motherfucker, do you think i did that shit so i could sit on my baby smooth ass WAITING on you to get your shit together? NO! furthermore, the hair on my legs (also waxed) is going to start growing back any moment now, so you are my WASTING TIME AND MY MONEY!!!! fuck.

i know one thing. shit like this will NOT get you laid. so he can forget that. that is if we ever see each other. i'm guessing we will, but if he lets enough time go by, i'm going to be so pissed that i will undoubtedly have a stank attitude and say some shit that they boy books tell you you should never say and then he'll run the other way and the whole shit will be ruined.
i'm over this whole game bullshit. and if it's not a game, then he's just being dumb, and he should know that. i will say that i do feel better having gotten this all out...

IN CONCLUSION, this day that was supposed to be met with great joy and anticipation has actually stung...both emotionally and physically.

i am going to wash the wax remnants off my legs and ass, L.A.