Trouble…

Pretty much every man I have ever been involved with has described me, at one point or another and always to my face, as trouble. And I’ve always been quite pleased with the description. “Yes,” I think, “I AM trouble. No one can tame me! I’m like Black fucking Beauty!”

But really, how sustainable is it?

The other night, after a quick after work drink with a friend, I discovered a missed call from B on my phone. After the indignation of The Wire incident I had changed his name on my phone to “Are You Pissed?” in the hope of saving myself from future humiliation. Instead, it just felt like my phone was judging me.

I was secretly delighted – I had the whole flat to myself and no immediate plans for the following morning. Perfect.

I texted back: “You rang?”

An hour passes. Two. No response.

Now, had it been July 1st and had The Rules begun, I wouldn’t have even sent that text message – I would have ignored the call altogether. But seeing as how I was still in control of my actions (I use the term “in control” admittedly very loosely), I texted him again.

“Were you just calling to say hello? Because I think we both know how I feel about that.”

The phone rings immediately.

“Alright grumpy! What’s wrong with calling just to say hello?”

The correct answer, of course, is nothing. It’s actually quite nice. But I can’t allow myself to go down that road because I know where it leads. B is a highly unreliable creature, easily spooked, and the less I expect from him, the better off I am.

“For Christ’s sake, B, what good is a phone call just to say hello? That’s useless to me!”

“You are vicious!” He says, laughing.

“Thank you,” I say. Vicious is a new one but I figure it can’t be far off from Trouble. “It’s true!” I think, “I’m like Nelly Furtado in that Maneater song!”

Later that night, I text him to say I have the flat to myself if he’s interested in coming round. My phone is silent for the rest of the evening.

The Rules say that women should never pursue men, not only because apparently men are meant to be the hunters and women the prey, but also because the act of pursuing a man puts the woman in a vulnerable position. You can’t be rejected if you don’t put yourself in a position to be rejected.

Right now, it’s a strangely appealing theory. It looks like trouble only gets me so far.

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