You've been duped! Specifically, I've been duped

I consider myself to be pretty smart, except when it comes to matters of the heart. I might lie about my age, sometimes my dress size but I don't play with people's emotions. Either I like you or I don't. And you will know either way. The fakest thing about me is my hair color.

So, I cram to understand why I keep taking a dude at face value. It's obvious that this generation of men are skilled at one thing. Not good sex. Not great communications. Not good food. These men are angry liars! They lie so well that they make fiction look autobiographical.

Did their mother's not love them as children? Are they trying to make the women in their lives pay for their mother issues? I'm going to go with yes.

It's been my experience that when you reach a certain age and you're still single, it seems as if you're subjected to broken men with a point to prove and lies to tell. Then these motherfuckers wonder why a broad gets an episode of Snapped.

Listen, I'm tired.
Today for instance, I get an Emoji text from a dude I haven't heard from in months. Can you use words. I'm a writer, I like words.

So this conversation led to this question, Miss me?
There was a time when I would've texted back some cutesy little, yes. Of course I miss you. But today was not the day. Again, months have passed since I've talked to you and we haven't gone out since I got free tickets to a basketball game on my birthday —last year. What the fuck am I supposed to miss? This is a mystery to me. Please call Scooby-Doo and his friends to give me a clue.

Then it's like, another damned Emoji and this stupid message: You must have a boo now.

So what if I do? What effort has you made to get in that position and why do you care? 

I'm tired. 

You know what, I don't even care anymore. A long time ago, he might have been Ralph Tresvant, but by the time I meet him his ass is coked up Bobby Brown.

I'm good. 

Stay over there. I got books to write.