Many refer to me as a f*ckboy, not that I care at all but when they start saying that I have never experienced real love, I coil and my blood boils as my heart races. I know love, clad in a magnificent low-cut dress exposing cleavage that is boner friendly. I did know love and I still do but love is the reason I am as I am. Being a fuckboy doesn’t mean that my heart is void of love or that I don’t have any emotions or feelings, I am human and those aspects are one hunnid when it comes to me.
It was a girl, when she stepped into the room, all the perfumes went silent and all I could smell was her, she was next to me and I could smell every aspect of her body. Her hair smelt of coconut, her lips of black berries, her skin of lavender and her panties of chocolate. Her smile glowed and her voice was simply heavenly, “Hey” she said to me and for a second, I couldn’t say a word, hit by her beauty, I shyly threw back a clumsy hey with my hand forward and my name next.
It was a case of love at first sight, it hit her but not as much as it hit me. My date had stood me up and so did her date, it was a dinner of sorts and I asked her to be my date. We dinned, laughed, held onto each other and whispered into each other’s ear. After a few glasses of wine, “I think I have fallen too hard for you” the words escaped from my lips and she gave off a slight but interesting giggle and when she leaned to whisper into my ear, she simply left a cozy bite, I loved it.
Many months passed and we were in love, we were in each other’s sheets and panties, we were crazily an interesting couple. I took her to dinner every couple of days, I took her to the movies frequently, we were a deadly addiction and we knew it quite perfectly. She was my best friend, and such was love.
When a guy decides to love, he gives it his whole and unlike a girl, moving on after isn’t as easy as it seems.
I am not afraid to love, I am afraid to get hurt again, afraid to give my whole to someone again. I am afraid to spend my little pennies on something that will easily break. Yes, I have trust issues and I am not yet about to unbox my crazy and my heart to someone, to anyone. Sometimes, it’s safe to go around from girl to girl for the fun of it but playing it safe nonetheless, curiosity and caution must be able to complement each other.
Call me f*ck boy or something more fancy like Casanova or whatever you wish, but don’t you ever assume that I don’t have feelings, or emotions. My emotions and feelings drained out of me can fill 2 football pitches but my tears can’t even fill a glass.
Yours Truly,
Resident F*ckboy
