If you had asked me recently I would have said the four car garage, the picket fence, the 2.5 kids, faithful husband, good job. Now, I just don't know.
I never.... get cake. It seems like everyone gets to have their cake and eat it too, at least once in life. I never get any cake. At least, I don't remember having cake so it must not have been very good cake if I ever had it. Maybe more like a Hostess Twinkie; or a Ding-dong. Being fat and semi-unattractive, girls like me don't get cake. We get ding-dongs. We stay home, skip the bar scene altogether, miss huge chunks of life we don't life because of our looks, because of our self-esteem, because everything else we can seem to do is a whiter shade of pale next to rejection. We're smart... maybe too smart but we don't act smart. We act retarded to make other people feel smart. We act quiet and mousy and we yearn for someone to see us differently... under the pink.
I'm 30... and I can only think of two guys who ever "saw" me. One I fucked and one I didn't. I should have done them in reverse though. One wanted to fuck me for a reason I can't fathom - the other just wanted to cheat on his wife. He saw me though. Saw me in retrospect of what he no longer had. I didn't fuck him then, not when he could see me. I've never fucked anyone who could see me. I ran away. Their reasons... were not good enough anymore, not when they could SEE me.
So there's this really good guy. I have this really good guy. I have him on-line. He's.. perfect for me. He sends me money to pay my bills. He talks to me every day. Sometimes, he's a dumb ass. A supreme one. He doesn't mean to be... but he still is; it's forgivable. He doesn't walk away. He wants to work on things. He trusts me. It's the kind of love you feel from a distance. The love you feel when you can shut the computer off. He's only 21. He's a virgin. He wants me. He doesn't see me but sometimes I think he catches a glimmer. When he's wrong he doesn't always see it but he's sorry because it hurts me. I have this really great guy. I want to be a good woman.
Now, there's this other guy. He doesn't see me either. Doesn't know me. I don't know what is in his head. But oh, he sees me physically... and still wants me. No one wants girls like me. Fat semi-unattractive girls with bad teeth and glasses. Girls who don't care enough to shower every day, change clothes every day, keep the house clean every day, hide. But he wants me enough to want to fuck me which isn't wanting me at all. He spends money. He's here. He will only go as far as I let him. He's... chivalrous. He doesn't lie so he twists the truth instead. He could take me away. He could be a really nice guy or an asshole. He'd let me meet his family without fear. He'd listen to my music.
I knew better. I knew more than to be a booty call. I really did. But attention works on girls like me. It works all to well. So does anal sex when you're on the rag. I never let him cum. I didn't either. I couldn't.... stop myself and I couldn't not stop either of us. Now he's gone. He'll return. A day or a month from now; who knows? This guy will take me to the other guy. He could know. He could be in the know. I could fuck him and I could go to the other, the really nice guy, and never tell him a thing. I could.... have a metal heart. I could eat it.
My cake is ugly and green. Should I eat it?