Growing Pains

By Mac Guerreiro

“Don’t cheat yourself out of the growth”

He says,

One of my dearest friends though we’ve only known each other for several weeks.

He means,

“Honor these feelings, they’re teaching you something”

Trust me, Eye am learning plenty,

Even after making what eye truly believe to be the right decision the fuckboi still runs circles in my mind and in spite of the fact that running isn’t his sport of choice he’s quite excellent at it. The few times we hung out, and especially that last one when we went on a real date shows itself from time to time. His exuberant laugh and the spontaneous kisses. People may have thought of us as an actual couple. What a joke… especially when we cut to the flirty glances we’d share after such encounters juxtaposed to the radio silence of his nonexistent text messages. As eye’ve said before, our expiration came up quick and eye was still too slow to realize it. Funny how even when eye’m certain eye’ve won eye still feel like the loser. “Then how do you know you’ve won?” You ask? Because one thing does feel worse than this, and that is knowing that Eye’m letting him tether me along. Dates followed by radio silence and discrete flirting don’t qualify as an ongoing casual dating scenario in my eyes. So, eye ended it, after my last flirty text went unanswered. It was the next day and eye slipped him a note he was excited to read. Eye walked away as he did so and eye didn’t hear of the note again. His way of keeping this tether eye struggled to free myself from. If he doesn’t acknowledge it then there’s a sliver of me that remains his, right? Fuckboi logic at its finest.

Let’s not relinquish all responsibility though; eye could have been more cautious or perhaps not given him a second chance to begin with, but diving into that rabbit hole is akin to self abuse. So instead, eye look for the lessons: finally standing in my worth vs just contemplating it by taking initiative to communicate when something (he) isn’t doing it for me, realizing that casual dating doesn’t have to be as meaningless as eye originally thought, standing my ground even when his energy pokes at me like an erection that’s going ignored and threatens to reach the stage of blue balls. Just to ensure the last one eye deleted his number. Maybe it was the subtle to anyone else yet painfully obvious to me glances as he flaunted a new sexcapade in my face or the tiresome game we’d been playing since my note went ignored. Regardless of the reason, his number is gone and soon enough the fucks eye have to give will be also.

Published by Mystical Mac

Born in Brazil and raised in California eye am an artist better identified as a conscious creator and intuitive healer. My gift for storytelling in various forms as well as my keen perception into the metaphysical allows me to share my perspective in ways that eye hope are of help and use to those around me. Thank you for reading, listening and watching; it means the world to me.

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