At one point in my life I just didn’t care anymore. Just like Phil Collins, I didn’t care anymore. I can’t remember the specifics of why this was said, damn; it was about 10 years ago, maybe 11. I’m pretty sure it was because we had an argument, which seemed to be a everyday occurrence at this point. I was once in a very toxic relationship, that I shouldn’t have been in the first place; but I was at that age where I was lucky that I had someone who actually would let me stick my penis in them.
That being said, my kid was born in 2003. I was in a relationship that had me fighting myself. On one hand my kid was here and therefore the three of us will always be connected rather I want to be or not, so I was thinking that I had to stay with his mom… that’s what family’s do, right?
On the other hand, I was just not happy anymore. We got into so many verbal arguments that I couldn’t even count them on 10 hands if I were to become a mutant and grow 8 new arms. And most of these arguments were pointless, they held no bearing on anything that was actually important.
One day I was laying on the floor, playing with toys, mainly Mega Blocks. Trying to keep my kid interested and whatnot. Being Mr.Creative Engineer I would build tall buildings, not much engineering involved in that; but you can only go so far with Mega Blocks; and my son kept knocking my shit over anyways. Right then and there she started yelling at me, so I did what most other people would expect me to do and I starting yelling back at her.
For the life of me I can not remember what we were fighting about but it must have went on for a good ten minutes. I do remember that it ended like the majority of our pointless arguments, nothing was solved, nothing was being worked on, just two people that seemed to be mad at one another for an illogical reasoning that didn’t make sense to anyone besides us, sometimes it didn’t even make sense to me.
Five minutes later she came back into the family room from our bedroom and looked at me to say, “I love you.” A light must have went off in my head and I started thinking to myself: we just fought for 10 minutes, we didn’t fix anything, it didn’t make sense to me, and your not mad at me anymore? Why were you even mad at me in the first place? After she said this and there was a flicker of light in my head I opened my mouth to say something that even took me by surprise, “Good. I Don’t.”
After that grew an awkward living situation where our kid moved into her room and I was forced to move into his old bedroom.
This story takes place right around the same time. I think it was before my kid moved into her room, but on the other hand I don’t remember her laying him in “her” room. So the details of this story might not be correct, they happened, but as far as the timeline goes, what I remember may not be true.
I had/have a friend named Blake, at the time, he was a few year younger than me and lived in the same apartment complex. I don’t remember how we became friends, I’m not very social; which has changed over the years, but I still have a difficult time starting a new conversation with someone who I don’t know, someone who didn’t start the conversation with me. Blake was half Korean, his dad was born in America and later in life joined the armed forces where he met and brought back his wife from Korea.
In between our apartments was Jack’s apartment. Jack was a older man, much older than we were; I think I was around the age of 21 (Fuck that was a long time ago!) and Blake must have been 18 or 19. Jack was in his late 50’s, maybe early 60’s. Just like Blake’s dad, Jack’s wife was not born in America either.
Every now and then when Jack was home and his wife was gone Blake and I would go over there to hang out and smoke pot. I think that is where I got the thing of telling long, animated stories when I was stoned.
I can’t remember the exact date but I’m pretty sure it was April 20th. If you know anything about the stoner culture you know why April 20th is an important date. I do remember that Heather bought me a 6 inch bong made out of glass with a pull carb on it. It was a nice bong, or at that time in Washington State; still classified as a water pipe. The glass was clear but had dark green swirls wrapping around the single bubble at the bottom and reaching all the way up the shaft of the bong. It had a clear and rather flimsy bowl to it, that I broke on a few occasions and had to replace with a new stem. This glass, the glass of the stem must have been less then 0.100 thick, I’m guessing 0.050; for those of you who have not worked in a machine shop 0.050 is about the same as 16 sheets of paper stacked together. That being said the glass was very easy to break.
That night she also brought me the new Kottonmouth Kings album/CD No.7, which was new at the time.
We lived right next to a middle school, Blake just happened to work as a janitor there. He was working util about 9 o’clock that night. A few hours after Heather came back home from the store with our son, she hands me a CD, still wrapped up in its case, and a brown paper bag with a heavy object in it. Blake comes over and is sitting in my house talking to Heather and I as I said, “We need to wait until my kid goes to bed.” It just so happened to be a few minutes before his bedtime.
Heather goes to lay our kid down to bed as I’m showing Blake the new bong that I got, telling him that this is a perfect night to break it in.
After my kid is asleep Blake and I step on the back patio to load my new bong with some weed that he happened to get from Jack earlier that day.
As Blake and I are sitting outside Heather slides open to back door to the patio to tell me that some of her coworkers called and invited her to a party. So now I had to stay home, not like I was planning on going anywhere but I now had to plant myself at home with our kid sleeping in his crib. She asked, and it might be implied by now, that she went to this party. She even asked me if she could take my car, which only came to bother me later into the night.
At that time I drove a black 1992 Acura Integra which she wanted to take because it was cooler than her 1990 whatever Saturn. So I let her take my car, only to find out later that night that she took her car keys too. So here I was in a house with no keys, which now that I look back on it was not her brightest idea, what if I had to take my kid to the hospital? But throughout the events of that night I came to assume she didn’t want me to leave the house because of what she was doing.
I do not remember if I choice to sleep on the couch that night or if that was the only option I had at the time. Either way as soon as Blake went home that night I planted myself on the couch in front of the TV watching Adult Swim.
I finally get to sleep that night and around three in the morning my cell phone rings. After that conversation I turned into a ball of anger, sadness, and depression. I thought to myself, “I’ll just watch TV, that will take my mind off of her.” It didn’t, even with Family Guy on the TV I could not shake the thought of her fucking some other dude.
I answered the phone and it was Heather on the other end, she told me they were still watching movies and she might not be home for a few more hours. At this point I had a good idea of what was happening mainly because…in high school, towards our graduation, we were both going to separate high schools, but because of my next door neighbor who just happened to go to the same high school that she was me met again.
Heather and I went to the same high school my sophomore year, we dated for three weeks. At the end of that year I made the decision to go to a different high school. Fast forward two years, we meet again in Jenna’s driveway. After high school graduation Heather was hanging out with me, a lot; and cheated on her boyfriend with me by telling him that she was staying at my house to watch movies.
So…I knew what was going on. I ended up walking around my house to try to find car keys that were not there. Part of me is glad I didn’t wake my son up before I didn’t find keys. But if I was able to I would have woke him up and put him in the car just to go driving. Driving always put my mind at ease, still does. I think that might be why I’m okay with sitting on I-5 for 3 hours just to go 50 miles.
That night I turned into someone that looked as if he was coming off of Heroin, I could not stop shaking, I could not think, I could not sleep, food sounded disgusting. I just sat there, on the couch, in dark silence shaking until Heather walked into the door 4 hours later.
I can’t remember the exact conversation. But I yelled, not yelled but sternly talked to, her saying, “Give me my car keys.” and she gave them to me. She wanted to know where I was going, “My parent’s house,” which was about 11 miles west of where we were living. After telling her where I was going and she asked why I said, “I can’t sleep here.”
She then demanded that I took my son with, so I went and got my son ready and dressed for grandma and grandpas house. “I haven’t slept yet, you got to talk our kid with you,”
Before we leave Heather and I get into another argument, this one having more power. She wanted to know why I had to go over there to sleep.
“Because I keep thinking about you putting some other dudes dick in you.”
“You cheated on me.”
“No I didn’t.”
“Yes you did.”
After a pause goes by and I’m putting diapers and other things that my kid needs into a bag Heather goes onto say.
“So, when I say you cheated on me everything is fine, but when you think I cheated on you, you have a mental breakdown?”
She thought I cheated on her because I joined AdultFriendFinder. A few weeks back or however long it was when she confronted me about this I did not lie to her, but I did not cheat on her, or even go on a date, nothing. “Yes I did, I joined AdultFriendFinder because I like looking at naked women, and porn is too perfect, actual naked people is more taboo.”
“Yes, but there is a big difference. I never cheated on you.”
I get to my parents house about 15 minutes later and my mom and dad are kind of pissed that I’m over there. I end up in the garage talking to my dad wile my son is inside watching cartoons with grandma.
“Dad, I might move back home.” He wanted to know why so I looked at him with no emotion on my face and said, “Heather cheated on me.” I then go onto explain to him that I only had two hours of sleep and I would like it if he and my mom could watch my son for awhile.
The rest of the events are kinda unclear to me. I don’t remember if I moved out that day, or if I went back to the apartment for awhile before I moved back home.
But to close up this story Heather made a dumb decision that worked out in the long run. Three weeks after I moved out of the apartment she was dating someone in the military. A few mouths, like 3, they got married. With a husband in the military you might be forced to move a lot, that being said my son went from Washington State, to Alaska, down to Texas, and over to Florida. The last time I saw my son was in 2011, the last time I talked to him was a few weeks ago. He is 12 now.
They are still married and he is no longer in the military, but he is originally from Florida. So that is where they live, my son has a half-sister now, she is about 4 years younger then him, I think.
I try to keep in normal contact with my son. But he never calls me, and I forget to, a lot. Which makes me look like a dad that does not care, and I can’t really blame Heather, I’m not the best dad in the world. I do put in some effort though, I could always be worse.
I just hope my kid doesn’t grow up to be a famous rapper talking about how much he hates his dad.