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BECAUSE I'M A MAN

Writer's picture: The Novelist DarioThe Novelist Dario

Being a man can be so stupid

You can spend decades

Becoming the version of you that is deemed good

Just to have an audacious woman say,

“You don’t understand the struggle in

Not understanding why you’re not married

Or in a serious relationship.”

Like you haven’t wanted to be wanted

Or desired to desire

Planning out the course of your life to include a wife

Since second grade

Yet, reaching twenty-three and realizing

A degree doesn’t come with a loving relationship

Standards don’t include women accepting the challenge

Having your stuff together does not guarantee attraction

 

You reach thirty-five

Lessons stack upon lessons

Teaching

A good job doesn’t translate to prospects

Owning a home doesn’t add attention

All the benefits don’t erase abstinence

And there’s no worldly benefit in being godly

 

Imagine, listing two pages of baby names

Studying different languages and meanings

Making sure your baby girl’s name is Beautiful

While your son’s name is Grace of God

Envision, playlists for wedding stages

From ceremony to reception’s closing

Number of songs and guests reaching the hundreds

Understand, I purchased a sedan rather than a sports car

Because I expected to have my children in the back seat

And the little part in me reserved for hope smiled

Thinking of a car seat being visible from my rearview mirror

Every year, I celebrate the birthdays of children I expected to give baby cousins

And here I am being told I haven’t had to think about

Understanding why I’m not in a relationship

 

The damage is excessive

Because why don’t I have to tell a woman how this feels

But a woman will think I have no clue?

 

I know the pain of rejection

I, too, have been friend-zoned

I was even rejected when she admitted I was a good man

And each time, I returned to the drawing board in my mind

Wondering, “What triggered the rejection this time?

Was I boring? Was I too spiritual? Was I too poor?

Was I demanding? Was I too fat? Was I pious? Was I ugly?

Why do I see ghosts in spaces reserved for the living!?

Each time, the Lord had to visit me

Saying, “Your mind seeks a question it cannot answer.

Relax, move on, and trust in the Father.”

 

It is painful listening to hopeful, “She’s going to be a lucky lady,” comments

Turn into, “What is going on?” complaints

“Don’t settle,” becoming “Your standards are too high.”

“You still have time,” devolving into, “Keep this up and you’re going to die alone.”

People are cruel despite being so flimsy

And Ms. Ditzy thinks it necessary to accuse me of extremities

All because she didn’t qualify

 

Projectors are for sports, movies, and video games

Yet, you play with me

You labelled me a good man

Yet you think it’s okay for you to arrive as a bad Bichon Frisé

I came, a husband

But I must wait for you to know what you even look like as a wife

Somewhere in that twisted mind, you think that’s alright

You see me as the next pastor of a megachurch

But I have to hope you will learn to be my first lady?

Women will tell you that you’re a catch

Whilst never positioning themselves with open hands

Letting you crash into the ground, missed

Overlooked

 

But I’m the one who doesn’t understand

What it’s like to not understand why you’re not married

Or in a serious relationship…

 

…I, the good man…

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