What About Me?

What about me?

What about me?

What about me?

Those were the only words she spoke when I poured my heart out about her hurtful words.

Spoken like a true myopic personality.

This wasnt her time to talk.

It was mine.

And all she could say to me in the face of it was "what about me?"

Now I could dissect all of the garbage she said to me.
Things like when she wanted to come to my house to cook and I told her no.
All because I like my house to be clean when I have company, even if the person doesnt mind.
And yet she chose to remind me how unkept my bathroom was because I work like a slave and dont have time to clean it properly. Yeah this was the one time I allowed her to come over when my house wasnt clean.

You know it really amazes me how women talk about a man who wont do this or that. A man that wont talk. A man that wont share his real feelings. Yet, when I shared all I got was a "what about me?".

I was like... "did you hear what I just said to you?"

This is why men dont share. This is why men dont talk when a woman wants them to. Stuff like that. I felt like I had been trying to pull a dagger out my back only to have the person who put it there unknowingly shove it back in 3 inches deeper than before.

While I wont hold all women responsible for the careless actions of one woman I cared for... I dont think I will be baring my soul any time soon for any reason. Only to my God.