Who Stole My Girlfriend?!

She puckered her lips and playfully leaned in towards me. Her eyes fluttered. I stood there, looking at her, thinking, "How could so much fakeness fit in such a lithe, little sexy being?"

Of course I couldn't kiss her. That's just...gross. The very sight of her duck shaped, lip sticked mouth and her half closed eyes left a vile, repulsive taste in my mouth. It was the kind of thing to make you want to wear a hoodie backwards.

Now, don't get me wrong, she is a very fine, beautiful girl. In fact, she has a boyfriend called Philip.

Maybe it was all the flaming yellow hair, or the nose ring, or her awful collection of music, I don't know. And that confuses me because it was for those very reasons that I hooked up with her in the first place. I mean, how the hell does one say no to those gorgeous fake eyelashes?

I like weird people, they make me feel a little less weird. This girl was a catch. She has no ambitions in life, she smokes weed, I don't know her last name. She knows like four songs that I know. Basically, she's purrfect.

But I can't do it. I haven't been able to since I hooked up with my childhood sweetheart last holidays. I'll call her Belinda just in case my side chick (called Belinda) stumbles upon this.

Belinda loves hiphop, like, big time. In fact when we talk music, I feel embarrassed at how little I know.

I downloaded all of 2Pac's songs in anticipation for our flirtationship (more than friends, but not exactly lovers).

It never came.

She always has some shit to do and I have no wahaala with that. It's just, I don't know how much longer I can hold on to these hateful Outlaw lyrics in my head and still keep my sanity.

I like this girl. She's more intelligent than a Chinese genius. She has a job, she's fly as pigeons, she has a phone charger like mine and she's like the first girl I ever fell for. It is for those very reasons that I hate her.

Everytime I call her up, she's into this or that and the convo never lasts a few seconds. I whatsapp her but she never replies. I never push it. Because I know she's making money and when it's all safe and piled up, we might even sext.

Our flirtationship is gangster. We're like Bonnie & Clyde except we can't afford guns and we're too chicken shit to rob banks.

I know we have Chemistry. Chemistry is hooking up after 14 years and making out in the bar bathroom half way through the first beer and getting bounced and inhaling marijuana smoke the next day straight from her full, sexy lips and walking in the rain and talking about how lame exes are.

That's Chemistry.

She understands me the same way Einstein understood Physics. She calls me her "Dawg" and that makes my chest feel like alligators.

I doubt there's a girl that can compare to her. That's why I can't "get jiggy" with other girls. It feels like such a downgrade. Well, there's the part where she's getting nutted on by other fellas but I honestly don't like such thoughts. She probably needs it and I choose not to judge.

Anyway, I've been trying to contact her but all my attempts have proven futile. If you see that girl, will you tell her where I am?

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On a lighter note, I just got short listed for the Writivism Writing Workshop! How about that for "Yay!"? Thank you very much for all the support.

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Posted from Bed