Where did the love go?--part 4

"Where the fuck you been?" she yells. I don't even know what he said. I didn't care. He needed to control his woman, makin' all this fuckin' noise in front of my building. I got in my car, and rolled out. Not because I was afraid of her. Because, it was my birthday, and I was not in the mood for this shit. Let him explain himself, I thought. I am not getting involved in their shit. Besides, this bitch is psycho.

Little did I know, this was just the beginning of the baby mama drama that I would be dealing with for years to come.

Probably about 3 weeks later, I am chillin on my couch. In my place. Watching TV. I hear my front door open and slam shut. What the fuck? I grab my burner and who walks around the corner, looking smack down the barrel of my snub nose? Train Wreck herself. "Get the fuck outta my house, bitch." I yell. I was about to blow homegirl to smithereens.
She turns to go outside, and with a .38 pointed right at her back she says..LOL--"Who has pink walls in their living room?"

"I do bitch--and so does your man" ~LOL~ I can be so obnoxious!
So, she leaves. and not 10 minutes later. Baby daddy to be is callin'. Train wreck called him and told him that I pulled a gun on her and that I was crazy. "Oh, that bitch ain't seen crazy..yet" I told him. I told him that this bitch just walked in my house, and she was lucky she wasn't dead.. He simply said "You're a trip. But you can't do shit like that!"

I got a really good look at this bitch, and decided to give her a new name. Larry-Moe-Curley. LOL, because she looked like the 3 Stooges all wrapped into one scary person. She looks kinda like this-hair and all!

A few months later, she comes to my house again. She wants to talk, she says. She wants me to put him out, so that he will have no other choice than to come back home. to her. She needs help with rent, and bills. He just rolled out on her and left her with a child, no car, their apartment, and all the bills.
Screeeeetch! **brakes applied again** So basically, this bitch was telling me that they were living together when we met. They were together when we met. And he left her to be with me. She also told me that they were still fucking. She explained that he had 2 other kids. 3 in total. I wasn't sure that she was telling me the truth. She sounded way too desperate. Like she would say anything. but if she was telling the truth, that meant that this motherfucker was a liar, and a cheater.
and I loved him.

So, I confront him. I wanted to leave him, I wanted him out of my house and my life. I was too young and had too much going on to deal with this bullshit. See what happens when you break your own rules? I thought. But he denies that he has other children. He denies that they were together when we met. He denies that he is fucking her. I believed him.

The next day, I am headed to the beach. It was hard to leave, since we had so much drama the night before. He was not going. He drove down to the beach in the middle of the week to hang out for the day~~ 1 month later, I was pregnant. Jesus Christ, I think. WTF am I gonna do now? I tell him. The first thing out of his mouth, was "get an abortion" WwwWHUT? I told him that if I did, that we were through. Done. Just like that. I could not allow him to tell me what to do, without talking about it. I was confused and scared but ultimately, I told him that he could stay or go--it made no difference. I was having this baby with or without him. I was pissed that he was such a dick about it all.

After the initial shock, he eventually became content. Things went back to normal. He seemed happy again. But God works in mysterious ways, and 3 months later, I miscarried. I was all parts of distraught. He didn't seem as upset, but told me that we would make another baby. And we did.

When I was about 3 or 4 months pregnant, things started to fall apart. There was no sex. No love. No kind words. Everything was a fight. I felt as though I had no control over anything. Things were his way, or no way. He bitched and complained. Our relationship was shit. He stayed out late, many nights not even coming home at all. He quit job after job. He had no respect for me, or our relationship. He never answered his pager, I never knew where he was. When he finally did come home, sometimes days later, he would tell me some crazy shit..Like he fell asleep in his car. What are you, Rip Van Winkle, motherfucker? He even told me he was locked up. (Whatever!) He waged a verbal assault on me whenever possible.


He said some of the harshest things to me while I was pregnant. Things that I can quote to this day. It was to the point where I was having self-issues..he made me feel unwanted and unattractive. Where I started to question myself. This is when I started to hate him, and all I wanted to do was sleep. Oh, don't worry, I was not submissive to this by any means. I had plenty to say, too. And I said it. I was miserable and mean. I had the ability to hurt his feelings like no other. And whenever he started, the beast in me came out. He never failed to bring out the worst in me, and I often wondered how I ever got myself into this mess, and if I was ever gonna be happy again.

By this time, this fool had court ordered visitation. We had his daughter every weekend. EVERY WEEKEND. from Friday to Sunday. She was 2 and some change. Sometimes her mama wouldn't show up at the meeting place on Sunday evenings to collect her child. She sent nothing but the clothes on her back, and when I picked her up on Fridays, she was a filthy mess. Her hair was a disaster. Her clothes were not climate appropriate, and were usually too small. Not a diaper in sight. He would never confront her mama on this, and it pissed me off. I often wondered whose side he was on. He agreed to whatever baby mama wanted. And left me to take care of it. He defended baby mama, no matter if what I said was the truth or just spoken out of anger and frustration. I bought his daughter everything she needed while she was with me. I took her shopping, I found her playmates. She wanted nothing to do with him so I took her everywhere I went. I got up with her in the morning, or the middle of the night. When her mama picked her up on Sundays, she would cry and kick and scream. She didn't want to go. She wanted to stay with me. Her mother hated me. And I hated her mother.

We moved from my 1 bedroom condo, to a house in my mothers neighborhood. This would prove to be one of many mistakes that I would make.

I was 7 months pregnant, worked 60 hours a week, and was the free babysitter while her mama did her thing and her daddy ran the streets all weekend. Her parents had made a fool out of me. And I let it happen.

I resented her mama, her daddy, and eventually I began to resent her.