Side bitch out of your league

I’ve never had a relationship where I didn’t have a side piece. There, I said it.

I’ve always had one, even if I was saying how indubitably, helplessly in love I was. I had a side piece when I was still with my child’s mother. I’ve lost friends because of it, I’ve been called every name in the book and more.

I’m immune to cheating – you cheat on me and I don’t flinch. I might wonder whether I should get myself tested more, but I won’t bitch about it. I probably was fucking my side piece while you were crying yourself to sleep out of guilt. This is how I know men ain’t shit – I’m the prime example.

You’re only looking for attention

The only problem is you’ll never get enough

And that’s true. I’ll never get enough. I’m like an addict – I’m high on first-time experiences. When I drink… it’s even worse, the desire to refrain myself just completely goes away. It’s a vibe with everybody and yes, all the bitches like it. I’ll never run out of equally fucked up people who’ll ride me into the sunrise.

One or two people have moved me enough that I completely stopped looking for anybody else, but that doesn’t mean people have stopped looking for me. Anyway, C. is not one of those people. The thing is – I’m still an addict, while our first-time gave me a high that lasted for weeks, eventually I still ended up needing my next hit. Unfortunately, David is a bittersweet hit – as he comes with a high cost. I’m very aware that I’m hurting him by being myself. He makes me more than aware that I’m a disgusting human being. I don’t like to fuck with that, I really don’t.

C. thinks he might have fallen for me, so a panic takes over him that I might just not be a vulnerable, clueless puppy that he so lovingly took out to McDonald’s. I might actually be the enemy that scared him in the beginning…

It takes a lot for him to reach out to me, I know that. I take him out clubbing – isn’t that what young people like to do? I’ll fuck him on my kitchen table later. The same kitchen table I fucked David 2 hours before I met with C.

I have this vulnerable shit going on – mainly because I’m fucked up, broken, an addict, a drunk, a romantic. We’re singing along to What are we waiting for and we’re dancing and we’re happy right now, in this moment. He’ll wake up one day having to find out I cheated on him with half of New York.

You gain power by pretending to be weak