When I realized that this was the topic, I couldn't help but to smack my teeth. Like I haven't covered this fool back and forth on here. I spent the last few days figuring out how I'd tackle this one, because I wanted to focus moreso on he and I, not that tacky ass cheap alcoholic slut that he knocked up. However, unfortunately, I'd be remiss to not mention her, because honestly, she was always our biggest source of conflict. Over our decade together, we barely argued. I brushed off a lot of his rude (and often mean) comments, and most of our arguments boiled down to her. At first I didn't know how I'd feel about having to write this condensed version of things between us, but I'm glad that I did. I feel a lot better, now that I've done it. This was very therapeutic.
His name is David Julian Moore. We met when I was in 10th grade. I thought he looked kind of weird when I met him. We eventually became best friends and later boyfriend and girlfriend. He was my first. I cheated on my boyfriend at the time and lost my virginity to him. David continued to play the fence, so I left and slept with my actual boyfriend. The boyfriend thought I'd lost my virginity to him. It's not something that I'm proud of.
He was a self righteous asshole. I remember how much I wanted him to take me to my proms and he wouldn't, simply because it was something I wanted. To this day, sometimes I get choked up when I see kids going to their proms and I think about how my own boyfriend wouldn't even take me out of sheer evil. And then I begged him to come to my high school graduation. Again he refused. While at graduation, my little sister blabbed to me that my cousin had died. I was a wreck. I remember scanning the audience, looking for him. I'd hoped that he'd changed his mind and secretly waited in the audience to cheer me on. I needed him. He was the only one that really knew how I felt about her. I needed him. I needed him to hug me. To hold me. To tell me that things would be okay and that he understood how I felt. I needed him. Again, he wasn't there. To make matters worse, the next day, I went to his home. That bastard had the nerve to be on the phone with her and then got pissed at me because I wouldn't be quiet while he talked to the broad. My cousin had only been dead for a little over 24 hours and he couldn't even give me a little bit of undivided attention.
He continued with the head games. Actually, he played she and I against one another. He complained to me about her, and I'm sure he complained to her about me. Funny enough, his former best friend, Hassan, recently told me that he'd always felt that David favored me, it's just that he felt that he owed that ignorant bitch something, since the nasty hooker kept having miscarriages, due to her hypersexual past. Boo-fucking-hoo.
I dated other men when he and I would part ways for months at a time, but we always came back to one another. We were very familiar with one another. He got me. I never realized it until way later, but he was insecure as hell. I'd always had guy friends and I've always been open and upfront about that with David and any other man I've dated. David was still jealous of them. He was actually jealous of my female friends too. He felt that he should have my undivided attention. He didn't have a drivers license, nor did he have a job at the time. The overwhelming majority of our exploits were funded by me. So despite me giving him my all, if he felt that I gave anyone else a little too much attention, he made sure to tell me to quit.
After years of me feeding him when he was hungry and driving him around, he eventually got a good paying job. Because of his lack of a drivers license, I continued to drive him around. I have to admit, that once he had the money, he didn't mind spending it. I remember once saying how tacky I thought Valentine's presents were. He later admitted that he was actually about to get me some flowers for the day, but he didn't after my rant. The thought of it alone made my heart melt. He can be such an absolute ass that you learn to appreciate when he makes an effort. As we got older, our relationship matured. He could still be a huge pain in the ass, but he softened tremendously. It wasn't uncommon for him to camp out at my house for a week at a time. He had his own little drawer and kept underwear and sweaters over, in case he got called into work.
Eventually I told him that I couldn't deal with our half-assed relationship anymore. I wanted more. He knew my whole life. He knew my friends and family. He'd even spent that Thanksgiving with us. His baby mama and their kid lived in Virginia and I'd urge him to go see them and he declined. Despite our relationship, I'm totally pro family and I even told him to marry the slut. He always said firmly that he didn't see himself marrying her. (And I can totally see why now.) For the next few days he called and texted me several times a day. It's not that I didn't love him. I just didn't want to continue loving a man that couldn't and wouldn't take things further with me. I was 26 at the time. I knew that if I didn't do something, shit would stay the way it was forever. And I didn't want to do that. We'd been together for nearly 10 years as it was, without true commitment.
Things were totally over when his cumbucket found out that we were still seeing one another. Dude totally flipped. I couldn't even get the bastard on the phone. He would only text me. Ten years of driving him around, feeding him, hearing him berate and belittle me in front of my friends, calling me fat, mocking me and disrespecting me, and that sorry motherfucker wouldn't even pick up the fucking phone. I guess when I put it like that, I shouldn't be too surprised.
What hurt the most is that after everything, that bastard didn't even respect me enough to have a simple conversation. If he had just spoken to me and said that he needed to back up and take care of family, I'd have understood and respected it. Hell, I was the one that encouraged him to go see his family when he had three days off in a row, when he would refuse to. Instead, he accused me of not loving him because one morning after picking him up from work at 6:30, we got back to my apartment and I was so tired, that I told him I didn't feel like putting sheets on the bed. The negro that I'd lost my virginity to, driven around, fed, and supported for a fucking DECADE accused me of not loving him because I didn't put sheets on the motherfucking bed AFTER I'd picked his sorry ass up from work.
We talked a little later (finally) and I asked if he was going to marry her. Again he said no. I told him that the way he handled stuff was really shitty. He was silent. I occasionally text him still. The funny thing is that I know I was always way better for him than she was and I think they both know it as well. I no longer want to be with him though. After reading all of this, I can't believe I stuck around for 10 years. One of the girls I worked with was in a relationship similar to mine with David and I hoped and prayed that she didn't end up with her soul shattered the way I did. Thankfully, she and her douchebag broke up.
I don't know how I feel about him anymore. For a long time I'd imagine how I'd feel or react if I saw him again. Would I speak or mean mug him? Or would I ignore him? Would he look at me? Would he apologize? If he did apologize or wanted to talk, would I be willing to hear it? I'm not going to lie, Pookie and I have a lot of problems that we're working through. But sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if I'd have had him instead of David for all those years. But I know that it's safe to say that I'm over David. He's a stranger to me. I think I forgive him, but I'll absolutely NEVER forget. As a matter of fact, he's a big part of what made me tell Pookie to commit to me. I told him that I'd been through 10 years of one half assed relationship and 4 years of one with him and I wasn't going to spend all of my 30's in one. Pookie manned up and stepped up to the plate. Looking back, I'm glad it was Pookie.
David never deserved a woman like me.