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Trapped...

I feel like I'm trapped. That's the only way I can describe it.

As much as I know it to be pointless, I still think about New Boo. I still want to be with the person I fell for two years ago. I want him to be the man he made me believe he was. The man of my dreams. Even beyond the aesthetic and physical, he made me feel safe and care for. Even though I now know that it wasn't real, I felt like he guarded my heart.

Now I'm stuck in a situation with a man who would probably move heaven and earth for me -- as long as I don't ask him to. It's always got to be on his terms and in his time. My needs are pointless and irrelevant. He does things like get me a phone case because he knows I don't have one. He'll get my glasses fixed because he knows I'll forget. But when I ask him to make love to me, he says I'm nasty...or that there are other ways to be intimate. Basically, anything that keeps him from having to expend effort beyond what's been allotted to me.

This weekend, we're trying to get the house straight. The critters are still here, but I bombed the place. Now I've REALLY got to get it cleaned out. Plus, my homegirl is talking about moving her stuff in, too. Where is he, you ask? At home. He said, "I'll wait until the manual labor is over." In his eyes, he's already done enough towards this apartment.

I'm not happy. I'm trapped in the gilded cage reserved for girls who tried to do it right. Instead of shaking my tail all over town, I tried my best to live right. I didn't have kids outside of marriage. I worked on my career so that when I got to this age, I'd be able to relax.

Instead, I'm listening to sad songs wishing I could rip my own heart out so it wouldn't beat for the man I can't have.

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