Before we get started here, you should know that I hate, “to be continued” endings. However, it was brought to my attention that when I write these blogs that they tend to get kind of lenghy. So to make it a bit easier to digest I’ve broken this up into two parts. You’re welcome :-)
Ok, so I have this thing with my baby mama where I'm nice to her and she tries her hardest to make me snap off on her. It's kind of our thing...well it's kind of her thing and I’m forced to play along until our child together is 18 years old. I’ve consistently maintained a winning edge in our little game/hostage situation by simply being the bigger person. And I say “bigger person” so she can use it to make an immature and lame joke about me being fat. It's my contribution to the game. I’m fine with that.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. In order to fully understand the altercation that she initiated with me at one of my recent comedy shows (yeah, she’s that kind of baby mama) you must first have at least a basic understanding of our past. A past that I’ve been trying, unsuccessfully, to leave exactly there...in the past. But I digress. Back to the beginning…
God where do I start? Ok, I’ll make this part short. We were in high school. I was a junior, she was a sophomore...I think. In the beginning she was terrible. Not as a person. I mean, she was nice and friendly and all but she was just a horrible girlfriend. From flirting with other guys behind my back to flirting with other guys in my face. She just was not girlfriend material...like at all. And no matter how many times I’d tell her that thats not cool she just wouldn't stop. I’m not confrontational so I just stopped bringing it up.
Then along comes this other girl. This other girl is better than my baby mama in every way imaginable without even trying...and she’s showing interest in ya boy. Now up until that point I’d never broken up with anyone before. My baby mama was my first real “girlfriend.” I wanted to break up with her then but I just didn't know how. I was kind of just hoped she would just go away. Stupid on my part, I know. Anyway, my baby mama gets wind of this and asks me to disassociate myself with the other girl. Uhh...no?!?! How many times did I beg you to stop flirting and you just disregarded my requests. Miss me with that mess...of better yet, break up with me so I can date this other girl with a clear conscience. (it should also be mentioned that, to this day, my baby mama swears up and down that I had sex with the other girl and as much as I would love to have that notch on my belt, I don't.)
Ok. So my baby mama gets pregnant my senior year. I disaffiliate myself from the other girl and focus on this family that I thought we were gonna try to make work. And from then until the baby is born, my baby mama and I are great together. I graduated in June, the same month the baby is born. She starts her senior year and everything turns to ka ka poo poo.
Ok, so this is the best part. After she graduates. I talk to one of my closest friends at the time to see if he will give her a job at the fast food restaurant he manages. This friend also happens to be dating “the other girl” from earlier in the story. No biggie though. Or so I thought. (Oh my God! Here comes the good part!! I’m so anxious for you to read it!!)
What I’m about to tell you next I found out about from my baby mama only after we had broken up. But for the sake of chronology I’m telling you now. So I’d come to the restaurant to pick her up after one of her closing shifts. I’m sitting in the parking lot in my car waiting for her and “the other girl” is sitting in her car waiting for her boyfriend/my friend. There are no other cars in the parking lot and no other people in the restaurant. My baby mama and my friend decide to take this opportunity to have sex with each other inside the restaurant while their significant others wait for them outside. (I told you that was the best part!!!) Looking back, I’d have to say, it was so player how she just got in my car and had me drive her home like everything was ok. I almost kind of envy her ability to be...we’ll just say, that way (See? Bigger person.) I later found out that it was her way of getting back at “the other girl.” I’m not sure how though seeing as how the other girl, to this day, knows nothing about the incident.
Moving on... So maybe a couple months pass and I propose to her. She says yes only to leave me a week later for a man whom she is aware lives with his fiance. Leave me to ruin another relationship? I talked all that stuff about her not being girlfriend material but I couldn't have been any better if she was willing to jump off of my ship just to sink a different ship. But whatever. Time passes. She makes a few last ditch attempts to get back with me that all fail miserably (she just couldn't leave other men alone, in case you’re curious). She did her best to keep me away from our baby to the point where I had to go downtown and tell the people to make her let me see my kid. It was a mess.
Here’s the thing. I’ve always been the type of person to get over stuff pretty easily. When she dumped me, I cried like a little girl, wished I was dead, all of that. I could tell you the name of every sad song that was playing on the radio at that time. It was a rough time for me but I got over it. Now I’ve been no saint since then. When I found out why she was leaving me and for whom, I called her every hoe, bitch, slut, tramp...anything I felt was synonymous with back stabbing Jezebel. Then when I found out she had sex with one of my closest friends at the time while we were still together, it was a wrap. But still I moved on. She did all these things, I’m the one who’s moved on and wants to be friends but she hates me. And again I’m fine with that.
She has her reasons for hating me, let her tell it. Now a days, her reason for hating me is that I don't see our child enough. Thats a fair statement. I don't see her enough. But two things about that: First, I see her when I can. We don't live in the same city and I can only do what I can do. Her coming down to a room I’m performing at and spazzing out afterwards isn’t helping the situation. Second, thats why she hates me today, but when I was living in her city and seeing my daughter every weekend she still hated me, like I slept with her friend or left her for someone else. Then it hit me: She has to hate me.
Now that you're up to speed and have a brief look into what might be the psychology behind the decision making process, lets talk about the spazz out at the comedy club...in part 2. I told you "to be continued" endings suck!