Was It Like This All Along??

I'm not really sure if this is a new thing, or if I am just a bit more clear in the noggin so I am noticing it...

But there are a lot of males who seem to want to go on a date with me...

Now, let's face it.

It is 2019.

The word "date" is used loosely.

Like a plumber's pair of Carhartt jeans loosely.

Ok?!

I have learned that "date" often means "come bang me and never call me again."

I have also learned that questions such as, "Are you married?" seem to have extreme importance.

These realizations have made the whole stay away from men goal a bit more easy to adhere to.

Now, some of this is a bit comical.

Like the guy at the gym who has literally asked me out SIX times now.

Six.

I have blatantly ignored him (which is VERY normal for me at the gym).

I have told him that even if he was the last male on earth, the answer would still be no.

I have told him that if he asks me again, I'm going to "accidentally" drop my 25 pound bar bell on his crotch.

Either Dude is desperate, or he is up for a challenge. 

Wrong girl, Dude.

Wrong girl.

Or the guy who is friends with people I know who friended me on FB.

These tend to be my very favorites!!!

He messages me to try to talk to me.

I simply ask, "Are you married?"

He says, "Well, separated."
Bye, Felicia.

Or the guy who played duck, duck goose with me on the freeway.

Here's the thing:

In the past 30 years, I would have been so flattered by all of this.

Flattered.

Can you imagine??

Flattered.

Now, I'm just amused... except when I'm completely disgusted.

Last night, when I got home from the gym, my Braxton was in his room.

He is emotionally devastated right now after the breakup with his girlfriend.

He was throwing up and just in rough shape after school.

I went in and sat on his bed where he laid.

I took him some Gatorade.

Then I tickled his arm until he fell asleep.

My auntie used to tickle my arm when I was little.

I remember that as being one of the only calming memories in my youth.

As I tickled his arm and watched him calm down, I was overcome with gratitude that I was not somewhere else.

I was not with a man.

I was not gone.

I was right there, comforting my almost 18 year old.

I was right where I should have always been.

With him.

With Braxton, who needed his mama.

I was there.

That is recovery.