You’ve inched your way forward these last four months. You eased your way, gently and not, into my life. I tried to be rid of you once in that time, to no avail; you were determined. What did you want from me? I may never know.
What you got was the realist me I could be. I’m hot and I’m cold, I’m lazy and energetic, it all depends on my mood, or what it is you want me to do, or be. See, I can only really be me. I’m not good at being other things, or being other peoples things.
My provence is both rare and common, yet I am neither.
I push at things, I obsessively dive into things, push aside anything that may get in my way and focus in on my desire, my passion, my heart.
I’m not for everyone, I know.
And yet, I say, why shy from the things that one desires? Did you not realize when you pulled my ponytail, snapping my head against my neck, that I would not react? Going in for a kiss in such a way, does tend to get ones attention.
Friends you say? You can be my friend. Day by day Paula, you said, day by day. Right.
I think I’ll just stay away.