Lights Out

Even dear old Blackie Collins makes mistakes. As I have said before, I never claim to be perfect. I am writing today's blog to show you that we all stumble on our quest for love or whatever. When I was in my early twenties, I made it my life's goal to find all the baddest boys I could-as many of my peers did too. I went out of my way to date the guy who was the least stable, the one who provided the most drama, or chased after someone who was so obviously in hot pursuit of something other than me. But as I've gotten older (those 20s are a bitch as far as learning goes), I've realized that there's only room for one drama queen in my relationships and I prefer it to be me. I no longer look for the hottest guy in the room, the one that all the girls want, because nine times out of ten, he's well aware that all the girls want him and he'll act accordingly. I am no longer attracted to cockiness or arrogance. A quiet confidence is enough for me. Nor do I think I have to settle for someone sub par just so I can have someone to curl up with at the end of the day. These days, I look for the guy that makes me laugh. The guy with whom I can't stop smiling. The guy who I'm attracted to versus the guy all the girls want. The guy who can hold a conversation and can throw me against a wall and fuck me spineless (I wouldn't be Blackie, if I didn't toss that in there).

Yet, today, I sit here a bit humbled-I've been snapped back. I've been enjoying my roster of men, enjoying a life of dating after having been someones girlfriend for so long. But after having a crazy intense conversation with the aforementioned best friend who I slept with(Read Friends W/ Bennies and catch up), I started to think that perhaps I'm still a bit lost, just in a different way. Perhaps I'm pretending to be uncaring, when at the core I'm just a girl who wears her heart on her sleeve, but wears a cute cardigan to cover it up. Women are emotional creatures and I don't mean we cry at the drop of a hat or we blow up without warning (because there are always warnings, men just need to pay attention). What I mean is we are usually led by our hearts before any other particular part of our being comes into play. It's apart of our genetic make up. So you've got those women out there who claim to be uncaring, to have sex with whoever and whenever, but then you find out they have father issues or were molested or abandoned by their mother or something that makes them seek acceptance through outside sources. At our root, there's a heart. So, after this conversation, I realized that cynicism is fast taking over my previous hopeless romantic tendencies. When entering into a new situation with a man, I find that I am already waiting for the other shoe to drop. The dying romantic whips up a successful future relationship complete with photos of us laughing on FB and having all our friends wish for our happiness, while the cynic, who has seen so many women crushed (herself included) by the revelation that yet another guy isn't The One, draws up scenarios that involve cheating, lying, and break ups. I find that most of the time, I wait for them to fuck up. I wait for them to turn out to be what I assume they are: flawed. So, today, I am in a serious limbo. Should I still believe or should I dim the lights in a moment of silence as the Death of Love movie montage rolls...

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo

Blackie Collins