As Another VD Creeps Up On Us…
Well, well, well…if it isn’t the day of love upon us…Hold on, give me just a second, I’m feeling a little nauseated.
Look, I would love to sit here and tell all of you I’m thrilled about another Valentine’s Day in Ms. Macons’ stilettos, but I would be bald-faced lying to y’all. I’m not. I don’t mind love on other folk. Y’all do your thing. But, for me, I immediately go into damage control at the thought of a relationship. I’m looking for flags I missed before. I am trying to spot the bullshit before it has time to take a foothold in my life. I’m literally hashing and rehashing every conversation that takes place because let’s be honest, y’all know I’ve done shit like a simpleton bitch does in the not so distant past.
I have been a literal fool for the idea of love so many times, it is embarrassing. It is an outright lesson in humiliation when I reminisce on the ignorant shit that has occurred when it comes to myself and love. Like I don’t know any better. Like I can’t see the damned writing on the wall.
I do. I can. I am just as disgusted with it as y’all are. I can’t believe how much of a dumb bitch I’ve been either. But I know, I can’t go back. I can’t ungive myself to these fuckboys. I can’t run a Pink Pearl over my past and wipe out all of the erroneously marked “yes” boxes I checked. Lord knows I would have erased the good majority of…
