"You trust me?"
I look up at him, staring into his light brown eyes that stared directly at me. It felt like he was staring into my soul trying to read me. I could barely answer his question because I was busy looking at him. Once I realized I was s...
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Onest Simmons "Nobody's Perfect"
"Double standards...which one do you hate the most?"
I heard Anneliese hum and I look over at her. We were at the park, laying on the slide and talking. We had been here for an hour or so talking to each other. I asked her some things just to get to know her a little better.
She was secretive, very secretive with her life so her answers were short. I didn't mind it since I assumed she wasn't comfortable enough. However, I was still intrigued by her and the way she talked.
She had a way with words.
"I hate all of them, but one that I hate the most is the preferences." She answered.
"Whatchu mean?"
"Like if a guy prefers a woman with a nice body, a low body count, can cook and clean; it's taken as a pride point and that's just how he wants his lady. But, the moment a girl says she wants a dude with a big dick, at least six foot with money; it's seen as unrealistic and you get what you can get. It's stupid because if that's what I prefer, I'm seen as being picky and people will say I'll never get a man. But, when a man says he wants a chick with a fat ass and big boobs, everyone applauds him."
"There's a lot more double standards that I hate too, that's just the biggest one." She answered, I nodded my head looking back at the sky.
"I hate the slut shaming double standard. Like when a guy have mad body counts, no one says shit about it. But the moment, a woman say she fucked like five people, she's seen as a slut or a hoe."
"I also hate when people praise a dad for being in his kids life and doing what he needs to do. But, when it comes to the mom, she's just doing her job and she have to be there for her kid." I added.
"Well, that's how men see us as objects. Our fathers, brothers, uncles, cousins and even random men on the street. Women are just walking objects that they can do whatever the fuck they want whenever they feel like it. And they get away with that shit too, cause you know it's always the girls fault that something happen to her. Even if you don't do shit, it's always your fault some fucking how. I can just breathe and I get hit-" she quickly stopped and I look over at her.
"You okay?" I asked as she sat up.
"I'm fine." She answered getting up and I sat up, staring at her.
"You sure?"
"Positive."
I nodded my head still staring at her. She took a deep breath before turning to face me.
