OK, I had been ever hesitant to write about this subject, but this is enough!
So, as some of you know, I had been seeing this stripper. You will recall reading about it in my December 2006 blog entry titled,
"Out with Jade".
God she was amazing. But she drove me frikkin nuts. I knew the risks getting involved with a stripper from the start. I chose to do it anyway as an altruistic gesture. I wanted to help put her life back together. There were many things that (I won't go into detail here, because that's
her personal business) she needed help with. She sincerely wanted to get out of the life and become a productive member of society.
The first month together was beautiful. God it was a love fest. We would spend hours just talking. There was this diner that we used to go to every night. We would stay there till 6 in the morning some nights. We would watch movies together and go shopping and act a fool in the Giant together. I was intoxicated by this girl. Everyone said we were such a cute couple.
I had always remained somewhat skeptical about us, though. I mean, what the hell is this fine-ass girl doing with the likes of me? I was always cautious of if she was playing me for my money. So of course, yes, I was giving her money. But money always for a purpose, not to spend frivolously. I helped her get her car fixed. I helped her get an apartment that she could afford. I helped her find a 9-5 gig. I helped her with her child. I
"helped" her so much, that I damn near went broke myself. It takes a lot to start a life from scratch. I never ever got the sense that she was actively playing me for my money. I mean, let's be real. There's easier and quicker ways for a stripper to get all my money, you know? I gave a lot of myself so that this girl could have her second chance at a life that everyone dreams about.
OK, so now we're into the second month (February), and I'm effectively living with this girl. This month was a complete mirror image of the first. There was so much that I did for her that went unappreciated. I'll just leave it at that. There were too many things to enumerate. The arguments that made no sense. The needless fights. I had reached my breaking point. I grabbed only the shit that was important to me from her apartment (my laptop, my cell phone, a couple of DVD's) and I was out. I had enough. I didn't even care about the stuff that I left behind. Furniture, TV, Playstation(s). I was that fed up. I couldn't take the emotional roller coaster anymore.
This relationship was bad for me. I was helping her, but way at the expense of myself. There was a saying that I always used to say to her, "If it ain't good
for you, and it ain't good
to you, there's no reason you should be doing it." I had always used the fact that I was helping her put together a life to keep that from applying to me. I had really lowered my threshold, but there was only so much I could take.
I left that night, and I was alright if I would never see her again. We had a big fight, she threw things, but ultimately, I was gone. Just to mark the date, this was March 3rd. Remember this date.
After a couple of days, she had gotten a hold of a cell phone and started calling me incessantly. I would ignore all calls coming in. She would call me every day about 4 times a day. She would leave me different voicemail messages. Some were "Please come back.", some were "I miss you", some were "I love you", and some were "This is childish how you're not speaking to me". She would even get her friends to call me and leave voicemails. I deleted them. Why? Because in absolutely none of those messages were the words, "I'm sorry."
Let me explain some of this, because it makes me sound like a dick for not speaking to her. This girl never took responsibility for her own actions. It was never her own fault. It was always someone else's. This girl had never developed an emotional maturity past age 16. Everything I tried to do for her, she reacted like a 16-year old. She rebelled against everything that would have made sense to an adult. In this role, I became Daddy, the father that she never had. First, I'm not anybody's daddy. Second I'm certainly not a grown woman's daddy. The only thing that she understands is to be treated like a 16-year old, so that's what I did. I never picked up the phone when she called. Not once.
I figured she'd get the hint that I was through after a while. I wanted nothing further to do with her. I genuinely didn't care that she didn't have money, or that her rent was due. Yes, I felt guilty, but I could not sacrifice any more of myself. She had blown a good thing.
So this calling every day thing went on for about another month. That takes us through the end of March. There were times when I wouldn't receive a call for a couple of days and I though she got the hint. No such luck.
So now it's April and the call frequency had gotten smaller, but nevertheless, SHE'S STILL CALLING! Now she only calls on the weekends. Oy vey! I can't take any more of this. I changed my cell phone number. That should put an end to it.
You would think. Evidently she got a hold of my home phone number, which I didn't even have a land line when I was seeing her. I guess I should have made the number unpublished when I signed up for service with Verizon. Not ten days after I change my cell phone number, I get a voicemail on my home phone. Guess who.
So now we're up to May. She's taken only to calling around the 1st of the month. Gee, I wonder why. The money well has dried up. Bear in mind, I haven't seen or spoken to her since the night I left...in March! Around June 1st, when she called, I had developed a theory. Let's see if she only calls around the 1st of the month. Sure enough...
I get a call this morning at 6AM! I recognize the number on the caller ID. It's her! I hear the voicemail. "Oh, hey. It's me. Just wanted to see if you were up. Call me. Bye"
Un-fucking-believable!All casual and shit. Just like, "Hey". Do you believe this bullshit!?!?
That was the last straw. I don't need this bullshit. Especially with my father in the hospital and shit. I'm changing my home phone number, and having it unlisted just as soon as I pay my bill. I can't believe how long this has gone on. It's damn near JULY! Why doesn't this girl get the message? It's like every time I start thinking about moving on with my life and going out again, dammit, she shows back up. I can't have her looming over my head anymore. I have to excise her entirely from my life.
Some would say, you play with fire, you're going to get burned. I had always kept the hope that I could change her because she wanted to be changed. I see now that there's just no hope for her. I wish there was something more I could do for her, but there's little I can do other than making sure she sees a mental health professional.
I would like to personally thank bloggers Mike I. and Derrick W. for their advice and their experiences in this type of situation. They, among others, warned me. Even though I knew what I was getting into, avoiding getting played, I got played in other ways.
My mother has a saying, "Sometimes, the juice ain't worth the squeeze."
My father has a saying, "Sometimes, the fucking you're getting, ain't worth the fucking you're getting."
Labels: Dating, Hot Bitches, Rants, Strip clubs