A playa is a promiscuous man who left behind many women with broken hearts, feeling nothing but agony. They are highly charming, manipulative and seductive. They sell you false dreams, making you believe that you are the only one. You could deceive yourself by thinking that you are blessed with a loyal and loving man.
“What you don’t know, can’t kill you.”
You could call him a thousand times, the guy’s phone could go straight to voicemail. He is busy with another woman and only Lord knows what they are doing. I blame the father of these good for nothing playas – Giacomo Casanova. He was a seductive and soft speaking womaniser. But I cannot attack a dead man for perversions of our modern day men. He died centuries ago, I think on the 4 of June 1798.
There is no way, that he pointed a gun on their heads and forced them to be another version of himself. After all, the man was an Italian adventurer and author. He gave birth to the name Casanova; for his promiscuity. May his soul rest in peace.
Sometimes, I wonder what’s wrong with playas. Are they alright when it comes to sanity? How can you lead somebody on while you’re busy playing with their heart? How can you tell someone you love her when you’re all about sex? How can you sleep with a woman you do not even know?
I am a broken person, but I do not wish anybody to end up like me. I do not want to hurt someone because I am hurting. I will never fool him into thinking that I love him. I tried that shit and I failed. These playas have their rules of the game, such as, if it’s a one night stand they call it “no strings attached Honey.” They are afraid of commitment. Once they have you in bed, you are no longer relevant. You are just some naive girl who just ‘does not know the difference between making love and meaningless sex’.
You could say, “Babe, we made love last night, why are you giving me a cold shoulder lately?”
“First of all I am not your babe just because we had sex last night. To me it was just meaningless sex. We go our separate ways. I really do not need an annoying girl on my shoulder,” he said.
Girl! I say, do not waste your tears on that pig. You deserve much better. He will die alone and miserable with no one. All you ever wanted was to be his girl and not one of his girls.
As long as I live I will never agree to share my man with another woman, or even worse, be the other woman. I am not even a big fan of polygamy.
There is still that kind of thing I loathe, of a man being called ‘superior’, us women being inferior beings, who are good for being sex objects or punching bags. Men are never criticised harshly as women if they are promiscuous. Promiscuous men instead are called playas, ladies-man, lady killers and Casanovas. Words that don’t sound dreadful or degrading.
As women, if you have that many boyfriends, you are called a whore and a cheap skank. As a playa on the other hand, you are praised for being a real man and praised for being a heart destroyer. Being a real man is not about how many women you have, and how many you’ve fucked. I do not want a playboy who will dehumanise me to a point where I cannot even love anymore.
Not all men are cold hearted Casanovas. But I think I will end up not being able to differentiate between a good man who loves me genuinely and a playa. I want a guy who will love me, not because of infatuation. A guy who will give me time and not to other women. A guy who is loyal and who treats me like the Queen that I am. I will never look down on myself. And, this is not because I am arrogant. It’s just that I know that there are so many guys lined up who are dying to be with me, yet I waste my time on these good for nothing jerks who don’t even know my name.
I will never compete with anybody or compare myself with one of his floozies. I know I am a beautiful, smart and ambitious young lady who wants to be somebody someday. I want to surpass those greatest writers of all times which are Allan Edgar Poe, Bram Stoker, O Henry, Charles Dickson, Emily Dickson and William Shakespeare.
All these writers are a great influence in my writing career. I do not have time to chase after somebody who does not see the greatness in me. I will focus on my writing career, instead of spending my time crying, going on hunger strike and drowning my sorrows in alcohol. It’s really not my fault that he’s a playa. The mistake of my life is having bad taste in men.
Tell us: Have you ever dated a playa? How did they treat you?