It's Not Love

Straight To The Point

Now that you have a general sense of my view of men, we can continue. I don't always go home by myself, sometimes I don't even go home. It's too depressing being alone sometimes, no matter how gun-ho you are about being independent. Everyone has needs, and everyone needs those needs fulfilled. And I have some dark needs.

I see him here again at my regular place. I hardly talk to him but he's an eye-opener that's for sure. Eric, 6'4, has dark brown hair with eyes to match, tatted up and down both arms and has muscles that scream, "I live in the gym." He is the ideal man for me when it comes to looks if I was in the market for a relationship. Unfortunately, I'm so unemotionally available that I can only allow my physical needs to be met, which for now I've accepted.

He comes up to me and sparks up a conversation like he always does, except this time is a little different. He's standing a little closer, and leaning farther in to hear me when I speak. His cologne radiates off his body and it's intoxicating, if I wasn't focused I'd fall over. He's smiling extra bright, he's not drunk just barely tipsy, and then he locks his eyes on mine. I don't break the connection, I stand my ground and make myself known to him. He broke contact to look me up and down, cocked his head to the side, smiled, and let out a small laugh.

"What?" I said my cheeks a little flushed from drinking, "You." He said lowering his voice so only I could hear. "What about me?" I rolled my eyes into a smile, a flirtatious one that read can you handle my attitude? "You act like you're not the hottest woman in this bar, you carry yourself well, and you don't take shit from anybody." "It's a cutthroat world, what else am I supposed to do?" That one took him back for a second before he lowered his head to my right ear and responded, "Fall in love perhaps maybe even let down those walls you work so hard to keep standing?"

"Or perhaps the emotional stability of my mental state doesn't allow that," I said flatly back into his right ear. His face hardened and he read my face over. He could tell that I was hurt in the past but didn't press the issue. He looks mad if anything, not at me but for me. As if whoever hurt me he could easily hurt them if he wanted to. I pulled my pants up a little bit because they started to bunch up and the look on his face dissipated.

"What are you doing after this?" He broke the silence. "I was planning on going home and going to bed, I am getting tired." I lied, I wasn't tired, it was just a ploy to see how far he would go. "Well, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to hang at my place for a bit? But if you're too tired I understand." His face is unreadable which never happens. "I can stay up for a bit longer, do you want me to follow you?" My stomach growled he started walking towards the door but I grabbed his arm just enough to stop him. "I need to stop and get food my stomach is growling and I don't know how much longer I can keep it at bay." He smiled again, "Or I can cook for you? If you want of course." A man cooking? Okay, I'm intrigued. We walked outside when a guy stumbled out behind me and knocked me over, "Move bitch," I'm still trying to find my footing in these heels when I heard him, "The fuck did you say?"

I turn around to see Eric holding the man who now has a bloody nose. "Listen, man, I didn't know that -," he cut him off, "That's right you don't know shit now apologize to her," Barely looking at me, he drunkenly apologized and Eric let him go. "Bit excessive don't you think?" I cocked my head at him and smiled. One thing about me, I always have something to say, "Nah, not enough, where'd you park?"