I Say No. She Says Yes.

I have this friend, y’all. Let’s call her Cookie. She and I have been down for decades. She knows all of my secrets, good and bad. Always by my side. Will reject a guy for me before he can even cross the room. She. KNOWS. ME. My likes and dislikes. Desires and disappointments. Her excitement sometimes outdoes mine.  Cookie has been bae before Bae was bae.

But sometimes, my friend is a straight thot, y’all.

Because lately, when I’ve been telling this ninja “no,” this backstabbing, DISLOYAL traitor is in my panties yelling “Yes!”

We’ve all had that one man who we know is just destructive to our mind, our heart, our psyche. Your friends are telling you to cut the cord and move on. You give yourself pep talks on how you will finally quit that lying, noncommittal asshole. Maybe you successfully ignore that “WYD” text. You utilize that BLOCK button for all its capabilities. Couple of weeks pass, and you start to realize that maybe you’ve terminated the pull he has on you. Roll your shoulders back, pop your collar, and decide you’re going out with your girls to celebrate your successful conquering of that addiction. Slip yourself in that freak’um dress.

Yet Sunday morning, you wake up back in his bed, freak’um dress on the floor, blow-out sweated and matted, and Cookie is down below (figuratively) smoking a cigarette in satisfaction.

At 30+ years of age, my Cookie is selfish as hell. She has encountered so many lackluster, big talk-small penis- having, can’t even get you in the vicinity of the promised land, D in her life that when she does find one that does her right, it doesn’t matter what I say. She’s not letting him go anywhere.

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Cookie’s focus is not intelligence. She isn’t so much concerned with what is good for her as much as what feels good to her. Damn the consequences. If I let Cookie have her way (and she gets it far more than she should-Bitch is spoiled), she’d probably have me in the backseat in my parking garage right now with my legs pointed upward. There’s been a time or two when I was just supposed to be having a conversation with an attractive gentleman and I look down to find Cookie sitting on his face. *shakes head* That girl gives no fucks about my heart.

Cookie is still bae, but she doesn’t have leadership qualifications. If our brain, if our heart, if our spirit is shaking its head, Cookie needs to follow suit. I know that bed gets lonely, that slow jams playlist gets you all in your feelings, and your toy handles the job but it can’t multitask. (Most men can’t either. Ha!) Cookie still isn’t satisfied, but don’t allow her to encourage you to send that “What up Big Head?” text. I know how good that lying asshole looked when you saw him at Happy Hour recently, but he’s still a lying asshole. If he isn’t good for you when you’re on your feet, he’s also not good for you when you’re on your back. Or on your stomach, your knees, p-popping on a handstand, whatever. 

As I just typed that last statement, Cookie told me to go fuck myself. Occasionally, you just need to let her have her way. Cookie has a mind of her own, but be careful with whom you share her. You’ll go to sleep in your own bed and wake up to find Cookie throwing it back. Bitch didn’t consult you at all.

Today’s Soundtrack: Jill Scott – Wild Cookie

(This was a suggested post. If you have an idea for a future one, hit me up on Facebook.)

 

 

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