Bleeding heart
That is the affliction.
I remember this guy that never gave a flying crap about the femmes.
Then he was down on his luck. Lost his source of revenue and then his digs. So he reached out to a fruit that was always about. This damsel took him in. Gave him a place to stay and was putting out. Sex on tap, roof over his head, food on the table. She even threw in some clothing once in a while.
He could have gone back to his mom's. In fact, occasionally, he did. However, it wasn't the same. He'd outgrown his mom's digs. There was a younger bro ruling the roost. He had settled into his big bro's room. Fit into his shoes. Bringing the ladies in, you know, made his bro proud. So this guy figured he wouldn't come back and re-take what was once his, he'd just try and fit in. It was hard.
So, he decided to just hang out with the nice fruit. Stick it out as he sorts himself out. That was also hard. He'd never really seen anything long term there. Or anywhere. So like all good procrastinators, he kept putting off actually leaving her permanent. I might add that he was never one to leave things permanently. Always left them, somehow, on good or relatively can-go-back terms.
Time went by. A year passed and this guy (often going back to mom's and returning to fruit's - like a little girl) got a job. Out of a sense of loyalty, the feller stayed. Listened to the fruit's crap everyday. Took it stoically. Then she went ahead and got herself knocked up. More angst for the guy. Can't leave now can I? I can never leave! More procrastination. Does he leave? Does he not? The baby. It hasn't done anything wrong. It just has a daft mother. What to do?
Then he remembered. He never gave a flying crap about the femmes. That he had forgotten. He had become a wuss. He'd rather live paying child support, get called a crappy dad but reclaim his old life. Maybe make a new one. Stop the bleeding heart nonsense. You can only owe someone so much. Not your life. Remember that you are who you are. But more broke.
3 Comments:
maybe thats how guys usually get to marry, by being forced, cajoled, beaten up or knocked up (her i mean) into submitting to wedlock aka asexual life aka kamiti prison with home cooked meals aka just jump off the bridge now life. Look at the brighter side, some kid to fleece your meagre pay (better than donating your cash to e.a.b.l), your folks know you are not gay etc.
Back in the day how a chick handled a kid depended on what community she comes from, u should hope she doesnt come from where they believe the guy should raise the kid lest u find a bundle of joy/misery dumped at your work station waiting for you.
I dont know you very well but i think yours is a done deal, YOU DONT HAVE THE MARBLES TO WALK.
20/20 hindsight is a bitch! I think Kamikaze looks at the other fruits that had been in his basket, looks at his current fruit and wished he could be eaten live by fire ants.
Lets enumerate, shall we? Melon, Melon++, Yams, Black forest, Salt (or was it Pepper?), P of hockey (did that one ingia boxx???), Tall ....and those are the ones I met!!
The title should be "heartless & bloodless"
lurker-chic
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