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Faith Mayweather @yes_i_cray
, 42 tweets, 7 min read Read on Twitter
Your MCM texted you @ 10am “Hey babe, imma be busy today, workin with my dad imma text you when I’m done”
You replied “okay baby, be safe, love you” thinking about how loyal and sweet your man is to let you know ahead of time that he’ll be busy all day.
Meanwhile, at 2 pm he posts a pic on his sc story of a menu at Olive Garden and you see freshly done acrylic nails across the table from him. Your nails are chipped and snaggly.
You text him “didn’t know your dad wore acrylics” he replies later that night at 3am “what?”
You text back immediately “that picture on your ig story... who was that girl across from you” you scurry back to the app to screenshot the pic and it’s gone.
He reads your message at 3:27am.
4 days later... he texts you “wyd”
You respond “nothing, chilling, wby”
He texts back hours later “nothing, i wanna see you” you’re mad because he ain’t shit but you reminisce on how good the sex was and you text back “why”
He responds “i miss you” you respond “what about that girl at Olive Garden? You don’t miss her?” He reads your message at 5:47pm. Good Job sis, you reminded him that he had that option. He’s fucking the Olive Garden girl with the fresh acrylics.
You send him “???” at 11:32pm that night. The message doesn’t deliver. You’re blocked. 6 days, 12 hours, 14 minutes, and 43 seconds pass and your MCM posts a video on his sc story. You see the face of the Olive Garden girl. She’s parading a ring on her finger.
He proposed. She’s smiling with tears in her eyes. She’s happy. And you stare at the screen rewatching the video... in disbelief. “Wow, that rock is beautiful” you think to yourself.
You unfriend him on Snapchat and delete his number from your phone. You’re hurt, but not too hurt. You knew he wasn’t shit, you’ll be aight.
4 months pass and you got a good job, new weave and keep your nails done consistently. Your social media’s are flourishing because you just bought the iPhone X, and your photos are pristine.
You’re drinking essentia waters, shopping at Whole Foods, and take yourself on trips across the country. You’re laying in bed at 10pm one night, a glass of red wine in one hand, and the Apple TV remote in the other and you hear a *ping* from your phone.
You glance at it and an unsaved number sends a text that says “what’s up big head?” You squint because you don’t believe what you’re seeing... you figure who it is but you aren’t sure. “Who is this?” You reply. He sends “(insert ain’t shit nigga’s name here)”
You respond “oh, hey what’s up? How’s life? And your fiancé?” He responds “bad. we broke up... I’m single” your eyebrows raise in disbelief. You ain’t shit. You want him back. You miss that sex. And you know they’re still together. Because your best friend has been keeping tabs.
“Awww I’m so sorry” you respond. You play your part, you’ve made your decision and you’ve learned your lesson. You want to be his side chick. And that’s what he was trying to get you to understand all along. “Can i come over?” He asks. “Yeah lol” and you drop your location.
He shows up around midnight, smells soapy, and he’s just as handsome as you remember; his eyes light up as he sees you. You’re not the same chick he fucked with months ago. You’ve upgraded. You’ve flourished. And He likes that.
Y’all fuck. It’s wonderful. He stays over the whole night, your bed is comfortable, it’s a tempurpedic so it better be. You wake up the next morning and he’s in your bathroom brushing his teeth with a toothbrush he brought from the night before. It was in his coat pocket.
This affair goes on for months. You love him but you know you don’t need him. A year goes by and something happens. You miss your period... you know what that means. You have a decision to make. You make good money and you can abort it if you want, you tell him you’re pregnant.
He gives you $500 for an abortion, but you go to Cancun instead. You’re 2 months pregnant now and you want the baby. You don’t care that he has a wife. You don’t care that he doesn’t want it. You just know that baby represents what you have together.
You’re crazy. You’re mental. And you’re a home-wrecking whore because you’re weak and can’t let go of a man that isn’t yours. You curve great men daily because you’re in love with this mans sex. You’re basic, but you’ll be alright.
The child on the other hand, will not be. And that’s a problem for another day.
Moral of the story: don’t fuck with men that don’t appreciate you with chipped and snaggly nails.
For those asking, I’m fine. It’s fiction. 😂😂
7 months go by. It’s 8:12am and You’re otw to the hospital. Your contractions are getting closer together. You’re calling (insert ain’t shit niggas name here) and he’s declining every last one.
What were you thinking? You knew he didn’t want the baby so what makes you think he would be there for its birth? You look down at the 18 unanswered calls and 24 text messages you’ve sent to his phone and cry.
Your best friend has her foot on the gas speeding to the hospital, cussing you out along the way, saying how ain’t shit he is and telling you that you should’ve went with the handsome lawyer guy from last year.
You look out the window. Passing the Northtown mall remembering how after you give birth you can finally get back to shopping in your size again. Your best friend gasps and says “oh shit!”
The tires screech as she tries to avoid oncoming traffic, she fails and your head hits the windshield knocking all of your breath out at once. You black out.
You can’t see, you can’t speak, you can’t move, but you can hear. “I made it as soon as i could— I... I was at work” you hear. “As long as you’re here... Are you the father of the child she was carrying?”the doctor says. “Yes... yes i am.” You hear him reply.
“I just think it’s funny how yo ass wasn’t gonna show up for the delivery But now that her life is on the line you wanna be mr save the mfn day! Bitch ass nigga!” Your best friend goes off. “Man... i don’t have time for this shit... i just wanna know if she’s okay.” He says
“What about the baby though?! You gonna take care of it?!” Your best friend yells. “Shit... I’m here ain’t i? Get yo nosy ass up outta here, you the reason she in critical condition now! Yo ass is really mental you shouldn’t even be behind the god damn wheel!” He exclaims.
Hours go by, It’s 9pm and you regain full consciousness. You look around the room and your best friend is sitting in a cushioned seat snuggled up on her phone. “Damn.” You say. “Where’s my baby?”
You look down at your stomach and see white gauze and hospital tape.
“C section?! Where’s my baby?” You yell. “Girl, calm down... i think he’s alright... I’m sorry about the wreck... I’m so so sorry. But they said your son is going to be fine.” Your best friend replies.
“Where’s (insert ain’t shit niggas name here)?” You ask.
“He’s in the next room, he has Dante.” She says. You try to get up but your body is aching and too weak to move. “Dante? Who said i wanted his name to be Dante?” You’re pissed.
“Go get my baby please.” You ask. Your best friend leaves the room for 10 minutes and walks back in rolling her eyes... your MCM follows with Dante in his arms. “I heard you had a problem with the name.” He says. “Hell yeah, y’all could’ve at least waited.” You reply.
Months go by and your MCM is nowhere to be found. You have Dante all by yourself and you get no sleep. You have to go back to work next week but you don’t trust anyone to watch your child. Your best friend said she can watch him on tuesdays and Fridays but that’s not enough.
“Hey, i need your help. I start work next week and i need someone to watch Dante.” you text your MCM. hours go by and he replies “daycare.”
“I don’t have the money for daycare right now, I’ve been buying formula and diapers and it’s not cheap. You need to help me.” You reply. he reads your text at 10:32pm.
2 days later you receive a text “I sent $850 Walmart 2 Walmart ref # 878492735, for daycare.” You feel better because now you can use that money to visit NOLA with your girls next weekend.
Friday rolls around and you drop Dante off at his Nanas like you’ve been doing all week. You give your Nana $200 for the weekend and you pull out of the drive way and head for NOLA.
This is the second half... that got lost in the sauce 😂
For those asking, this is it. I’m bummed that my thread got chopped up. Ill do a different one soon. But thanks for the feedback, i appreciate it.
THIS IS THE ENTIRETY OF MY THREAD. So you don’t struggle with tweet placement.
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