So you wanted to know why, why I make things more difficult than need be, why I refuse to sledgehammer my walls down or even disarm my alarm system so you can walk in effortlessly. The vulnerability; I opened up but not the parts of me you wanted. It's not that I didn't want it, it's just that I wanted you to work a little harder for it. I wanted you to desire and stare longer than you would have if I were to have just given it up. Its the chase, the "cat and dog" game that I've perfected after years of being prey rather than a predator. I don't see anything wrong with a little swing of the hips and a lingering touch lasting a few seconds too long.
Even strangers fell victim to my game. Someone once said, "it's because you stare long and make people feel important."
Is it all about the art of deception? Is it my super spy tendencies seeping through this covert operation. I know that this can be seen as taboo, but it's honest. I say this, As a kid, I used to beg and plead with my mother to play the Pac Man game.
You know, one of the antique, arcade games. Every time I saw it, I would poke out my bottom lip, look up at her with one hand outstretched--50 cents and it would all be mine. All of the fun. 5 times out of 10, she would say fine and grant me access to the
fast-paced game. Pac Man: a game where you-- player one-- has to maneuver around a maze that is littered with white
dots, dots that provide points for the Pac Man (Pac Woman in some versions).
This sounds easy, right? Now add 4 ghosts following you around while you try, and I mean sweaty palms, weak knees, burning eyes trying, to collect all of the white dots before being touched by one of these ghosts This rant about an old arcade game is
not for naught. My life has somehow become a game of Pac Man and I've had multiple participants try and beat a high
score that's never been established.
I wasn't easy or desperate for attention as mama and papa so nicely put it. My legs did not open like revolving doors for the
first person who called me beautiful. I came, I saw, I conquered and while I was at it I loved. I loved like two natural disasters
battling to be the best. I loved and I loved you. There was something about you that made me want to sabotage my
game of Pac Man, so I could be touched by one of those ghosts who take a life and teleport me to the beginning of
the game. I concluded that you didn't touch me and end my game to win, but instead to force me to realize that I
didn't need to play anymore. The game was over, the search had been terminated. You were my prize, you have written
your name onto the leaderboard while I held the ladder.
