So my celibacy count is down to a mere 6 days, I don’t even know if that still counts as being celibate but a girl lasted a whole 97 days! I thought that was impressive so I took myself out for a lovely meal I could barely afford and drunk £35 a glass wine to celebrate this great achievement. I miss being celibate though *insert big sigh here*. I miss being so self-righteous amongst my rampant friends, celibacy was almost like I belonged to some elite, stuffy, boring, uptitty club but now I wish I had just made him put the ‘head’ in lol so that I could technically remain a celibate, non-condom buying, innocent so and so.
Speaking of condoms, God they are so dear! Eh….there is something oddly unsettling about mentioning God and condoms in the same sentence but seriously, last time I bought condoms (now they come free, thank God) …anyway, the last time I bought condoms, they cost 75 pence each and came in one shape, one colour and had the same latex taste lol. I purchased my first condoms at 11…….from my cousin brother aged 6 who had stolen them the local tuck-shop. I was busy playing with my new ‘balloons’ when our maid at the time took it to my mother…..who in an effortless and expert fashion domestic violenced my ass shouting, “Show me where it goes…” the entire time whilst beating the living daylights out of me! I’ve never understood why Black mothers insist on your response to their questions whilst they dance dangerously on the brink of culpable homicide! I always found it impossible to multitask the screaming/yelling and dancing two-step as well as logically answering her questions…..anyway, I became permanently scarred, that buying condoms now has monumental fear attached in case mama suddenly leaps out from the counter and shouts ‘Show me where it goes!!!’
So Him and I are having a ‘thing’. Gosh, I hate having a thing with a guy. You know that indescribable confusing stage where you have moved past the point of being casual (we speak on the phone for days on end, been introduced as the ‘girlfriend’ to people who really matter i.e., mother! Yes, can you believe it? and he tells me I’m the only person he wants to be with) but for reasons best known to myself, I absolutely refuse to classify what we have as a relationship so ‘a thing’ it is. Things are supposed to be less complicated. I used the word supposed because in reality they are messy and a whole lot complicated. What is a ‘thing’ anyway? Does it give you a license to diversify your man portfolio? Legitimately, I can have a thing with one guy and still do another thing on the side, afterall, we are just having a thing, right? Is a relationship a relationship because you have that conversation you agree to be exclusive and say, ‘yeah, we are now in a relationship’? Or is it a case of if it looks like a dog, barks like a dog and lives in a kennel then it is a dog, even if it calls itself a cow? But to save my own sanity, what we have cannot be a
dog relationship. I insist that we call it a cow, a non-milk producing, barking, kennel-sleeping dog-look-alike, nonetheless I insist it be called a cow.
This post was especially written for Datmariandage and Tino_Wekwa_Govha, who have been relentless is getting me to update my blog!
It had been a while you guys, I have loads to update you guys on but work……well, I do need the money so work will just have to come first 🙂