Mom, Dad, there is something very important I have to say, "no longer a virgin."
Grandma, sorry.
wrote some time ago in a post that was ready to have a boyfriend. But honestly, I'm not even close. I still have about two years of psychotherapy to get emotionally involved with someone again.
I came to this conclusion as follows. At this very moment I'm dating two human beings at a time. When you first call the French, the second English.
French is a gentleman. The I first asked her out, took me to Ciel de Paris, a bar with panoramic views of the city. Sideways the conversation flowed, until we laugh, the French have an excellent sense of humor. It was an ideal appointment . Since then, the gentleman has been kind, I write in the morning, afternoon and evening. It would be an excellent candidate, but all the kitsch, the calls and the "ma cherie" I feel like running away. Whenever a claimant gets serious, I run into the arms of another. It was precisely at this imperative to flee the French that I was with English.
English I met at a party. When I asked my age, I said "twenty-five." For some reason my age made him laugh. "Never say five in Spain," he said. It turns out that if in Spain say "five" in some corner come a mamahuevo and say "I knelt in the ass." The true children of Cervantes. The first impression was disastrous. The first time I went with him to go stay with friends to celebrate Saint Patrick's Day. Zero romance, perfect. Best of all this history is that our English friend has a girlfriend. I am more than clear what this means.
Worst of all, and here is the point of this post is that I prefer the combo that offers the combo that offers English to French. You see, the English does not offer me basically nothing while the French are proposing me a serious relationship. I do not want or commitments, or having to adapt to another human being. Fuck that shit! The other day the French launched a comment like "our children will be ex-Venezuelans." Then I heard in my mind: "ARDI RUN, RUN!" Dude, do not take any time out and you're already thinking about kids? Where are your testicles? It was an instant turn-offs.
I can not help wondering, what kind of person am I? What kind of woman would rather be the bride's lover? In itself, I must be one of the few women who do not believe in monogamy. If someday you'll tell me where my future husband, "I forgive you the horns, I forgive yours. Not bring illegitimate children into the house. " The only rule of fidelity that I'm going to ask Mr Ardi future is: "Put on your hat." Secondly, what kind of person says "I want a boyfriend" and the second having the perfect candidate goes to bed with someone else? For those who are thinking, "You're a bitch", do not be stupid and basic. S i want to call me bitch ... unhappy if I can call, that should definitely be the kind of person I am.
I am a miserable because I was not interested in love. I am a rather unfortunate because the French call once and say: "Daddy, this arepera will not find the queen pickle you're looking for," I'm fucking the park.
As I write this sounds like "Dancing with Myself" by Billy Idol. The only certainty is that even if these two men each offer different experiences, both going down the same road to nowhere. Oh oh oh oh ...
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