I dated someone a while ago who has recently blessed me with
a phone call. The term blessed, in the previous sentence, was used with a chimerical
abundance of sarcasm. The conversation was basically about how he got some girl
pregnant and is having a hard time paying for himself, the guy that lives off
him, and of course the girl and her womb population. I felt apathetic toward his speech until he
decided to end it with saying that he missed me and saw us getting back
together.
You are kidding right?
If I were to somehow get back together with him my future
would look like this:
Me walking around a trailer with a bunch of little midgets
running around screaming, “Mommy, I’m hungry.”, and me making them some Kraft
mac and cheese. No way.
1st I’m not your mommy.
2nd If it didn’t come from my vagina, I’m not
feeding it. I’ll just look at them and tell them to tell their real mommy about
it. I’m a teenager I’m not anyone’s momma. Nope. I don’t want kids for another
few years. Plus, I am not trying to work hard to support an idiot and their
posse. Why on Earth would I leave all the positive things I have for that kind
of future? I would have had to lost my mind. The caterwaul of another woman’s
child will not be my responsibility to assess.
No thanks. I’m good.
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