THUMB WAR

Here’s the thing, I understand wanting to explore the curvatures of the Female tundra. Escape into cute winky face filters and embellish on each other’s outfit of the day. That each canvas of a woman is up for exploration and conquest. But I can’t escape this whirlwind of thoughts, that I want to capture your attention.

That playing thumbwar while your friends car is impounded is romantic to me. I get it, I’m a twisted freak, the one you’ve known intimately between the sheets, but that’s not the true definition of love. Love is helping each other without wanting anything in return only to find out you need to push forward as well.

You think I like this feeling? No way, it’s a vulnerable toss salad between “woo wee i got something” and “omg, can I put it back.”

So I’m asking you what you want to do. You are going to say, well I’m as lost as you are or freedom is beautiful. I’m going to say I want whatever you want and we both know that isn’t serving me at the end of the day.

So trust me, I can walk away from this without a care because I’m engineered for success. That someone who finds my time important will understand how to treat me with the utmost respect and care. But you know what, I think I’m more into the reflection of me in you and vice versa. Rather than continue searching for a bodyguard of nobility.

That an ideal of the best partner doesn’t exist and the journey, where I’m sitting in the car and your stressing outside my window, all the while playing thumb war is all I need.

Sometimes I say something I can’t take back.