armorless (previously titled “For all the Virgos I thought I Loved” (and there have been quite a few of you, haven’t there?))

sometimes things just need to be said. regardless of the appropriate time, or place, or surroundings. it’s like they are bottled up inside you for so long that suddenly they are ready to spew. projectile. like a volcano, moved by forces deep within so much greater and stronger than anything understandable. plate tectonics and shit, you know.

but its like as soon as they come out you want to take them back.  you see the slow destruction, the unforgettable, unforgivable consequences, and you want to pretend like it never happened. and I’m horrible at that. I think we all are.

guys, if you’re reading this, let me let you in on a little secret.

all a girl wants is for a guy to fight for her. for her attention. for her heart. to prove that its not just a bunch of bullshit that he wants her. to prove thats its not for all the wrong reasons. to defend her. to make her feel safe, and like it’s okay to put everything that shes learned for so long to protect, out in the open, vulnerable and naked.

that’s it. ha.

she doesnt give a shit what you have to say about that. no. when it comes down to this, to this critical juncture, she doesn’t give a shit about words. she wants action. she wants you to act like a man. she wants you to dominate. in the most archaic and medieval sense.  she wants you to take the lead, and she wants to follow it. I don’t care what Betty-Friedan-reading-non-armpit-shaving-bra-burning-feminist kind of girl it is…that’s all a bunch of bullshit. it is chemically, biologically, biblically ingrained into females to want a man. a man who knows what he wants and takes it, fights for it, and protects it. it is hands down the sexiest thing imaginable.

so when you sit there and tell me you’re sorry, that you fucked up, that you were honest about the fact that you acted like an asshole, that you don’t understand how I can be upset with you, that you can’t put yourself in my shoes, that you can’t sympathize with me (?!!?!), I have to wonder, what the fuck is wrong with me?

who in their right mind still has some sort of feeling (other than complete disgust) for a guy, that by traditional standards, doesn’t act like a man (AND gets insulted by me calling him out on it)?

who? me. this girl. this smart (spelling bee champion), attractive (semi), good head on her shoulders (most days), compassionate, big hearted (too much for her own good) , sometimes too small-tempered, but nearly always genuine (at least when it counts) girl.

and I want to pretend like I would never in a million years entertain the thought of sacrifing anything to make you happy. but the truth is I still do, everytime you walk in the room. and it half makes me sick to my stomach, and half just makes me mad. like fightin’ words angry.

so I blow up at you. looking for a reaction. looking to feel the blood letting. and it’s not fair, and I’m sorry. but deep down I’m just hoping that someday you’ll figure it out. that someday maybe you’ll prove that there’s not something wrong with me, and that all the chances I gave you, and all the heart strings I left tied to your crappy virgo stars, weren’t in vain. that I did my due diligence, that I suffered for a cause, an end result.  a man.

but when it all comes down, the more I realize that day will never come. and my words, and my tears, and my thoughts are all just wasted on a little boy too afraid to try. to afraid to fail. too afraid to let go. too afraid to grow.

so I’m left just standing here. armorless. waiting for another move.