Damn I'm flawed Part II

So, after I pour my heart out to Beaver. It's quiet. Real quiet. Coulda heard a rat pee on cotton.

"Now you get it? Is that clear enough?"

Beaver is still quiet. Then, when he speaks, he seems to take his time. "Yeah. I hear you. It makes sense now."

So, despite the yelling match we had just for too long, we're finally back on the same page. Beaver took me literally when I said we should be just friends. I really did mean that, but it seems that I wanted our "friendship" to be the same way it was when he was really digging me and obviously wanting to be my man. He would always come out my way to see me. He always had time to just sit on my couch and watch television with one of us resting our head on the other. Essentially, I was somewhere in the top five in his life.

At this point, I felt like #44. Despite the fact that we've become friends again, he still hasn't reached out to come see me. He doesn't have to kiss my ass, but I do think he should go out of his way to see me because he has some more making up to do after playing Houdini.

So, although he said he was "spent" because he was trying to figure out what the hell I was complaining for, he was cool again. Meanwhile, I was the one who was spent. He noticed because I actually was quiet for once. How can a chick like me keep her big trap shut?

"You aiight?" Beaver asked.

"Yeah. Just really spent after expressing all of those emotions. I don't usually go to deep when it comes to how I feel."

Beaver agreed. "Yeah. You're usually kind of shallow."

Now that hit like a bomb. Say what? I'm shallow? For real? I knew I had the flaw that I am a bit self-centered. Everytime I take one of those personality tests, I'm always "self-centered". I even took the dessert test and was being indecisive among three of the eight original choices. I finally decided, and my creamy treat made me self-centered and high maintenace. Now, on top of that, I'm shallow. How ya like that isht?

This is the decree from the brotha that used to be around me saying with pride, "I'm a nigga!" We almost lost our friendship behind that blatant silliness, too. I use the word "nigga", but my sentiments on that word are the same as Chris Rock's. "I love Black people. I can't stand niggas." So for me to associate with someone that identified with himself as a "nigga" was awful. Well, we got past that, but I'm still the shallow one.

But imagine what I would be if I went all willy nilly expressing my feelings everyday. I don't think he would call me too much any more. Seriously.

Well, at the end of this day, Beaver and I are friends again. We're pretty gravy. I can't call if we're meant to be a couple ever. I can't call anything except my car because it's quitting time.