The past few weeks have taught me something I wish I knew before I put my book, CREEP, out there. But I’m not too sure how to make that lesson into a statement without it sounding too funky, so I’ll say it like this:
I am not relationship-oriented. Does that even make sense? I hope so. Like most folks and their countless circles, I have friends who hunt, some alone, and some in packs because the thought and feeling of being alone sometimes eats at their skin like ringworm. I’ve never had that feeling.
Irene E. Jones taught me how to do the necessities, even sew, because a partner shouldn’t be a requirement, but an accessory. Hell, was I the only one watching Best Man Holiday who cheered when Jordan told her boyfriend she didn’t need him? I heard sighs, and “girl, that’s fucked up,” but I felt her. I’ve never needed any of them, but I wanted them, and I hoped that was enough. In return, I never asked to be needed, nor have I wanted that. “I’ll be just fine without you,” Adele said of her ex to the interviewer right before singing “Someone Like You” in her home.
I won’t lose my mind or leave the party sad because my options haven’t increased. I’ll be fine.
I want to be able to tell you that I want you, but don’t need you, and not fear that you’ll feel some kind of way. Those eggshells have fucked up the bottom of my feet, so I want to get rid of them. Not my feet, but the eggshells.
The girl in apartment 12 fights her boyfriend when he tries to leave the apartment on saturday nights. He doesn’t live there. I watched her fight him several times for hours, then dive head first into his driver seat when he opened the door. I watched him fight back once. That was months ago. He still comes by on the weekends.
The guy in apartment 3 had a gentleman caller stop by around 2am. Around 3:14am there was arguing, then fighting, then the caller went to his car and got a gun. He never used it, but he pulled it out. That feeling, that need must have hit him hard.
I don’t need you. But I want you. I want to say that, and I want you to understand.
Fuck, is this why I’m single?