Nightmare on 7th Street: Part 2

New  Readers refer back to “Who Exactly is this Terd” & “Nightmare… pt 1.”

“You’re just doing this for the money!” he said. “What money, Shwolf? We live paycheck to paycheck!” I replied. “You know I will do everything for them, you just want my money!” he accused. I should have burst his millionaire delusion and told him his evasion of taxes, lack of savings, and hefty sum he was going to have to eventually pay his wife if they got divorced wasn’t really going to help me out long term. Eh, but I’d save that jab for later. He was already telling everybody I was a gold digger, but he conveniently left out that there really was no gold to dig. The month of May 2016 will go down as one of the worst months of my entire life. I was pregnant, with twins by someone I could not stand for longer than three minutes that was accusing me of going through with it to take his make-believe fortune away from him. I was beyond depressed. Here’s the tea…

My parents were over the moon excited and their excitement made me excited. The only issue was the other half of the chromosome. “WHAT A CUNT!” my father shouted on the phone when I told him Shwolf was trying to talk me out of going through with it. My parents were just as disgusted with his behavior as I was and wanted me to come back to Chicago.

“YOU’RE GONNA MAKE ME A WEEKEND FATHER!” Shwolf said. “Well, it would be your choice to come see them every weekend.” I said. I wanted to go home and be with my family. Abortion wasn’t even an option at that point.  I did not really care if he was in their lives or not, but I wouldn’t have kept them from him. That much I knew for sure.

“You’re so selfish, Kash! You’re the most evil person I’ve ever met.” I did not understand how I was being selfish. I looked at this as a blessing. So often people cannot even have one baby, we were blessed with two. My cognitive dissonance had me reasoning that even though I wanted to leave him we could possibly make it work if we tried. Maybe. But most likely-absolutely not.

There were things I had to find out first, Shwolf was a mystery even after all this time. I called his mother hoping she could help me get some type of handle on this situation.

“When Shwolf is stressed he runs, he’s done this before. He doesn’t handle stress very well because of his condition.” she told me. That I already knew. The guy used to have a stroke while sitting in traffic, but this was much bigger than rush hour on 95.

I assumed she was talking about what happened with his wife. What really happened? I was not going to get the truth from his mother and I was tired of hearing about “his condition”. It was clearer to me after speaking to her that he’s been enabled his whole life because of his “condition”.  There are a lot of things that a poor immune system and vitiligo does not excuse, like his apparent incapability of keeping his dick in his pants.

I needed someone else.

Who else knows this guy?

I grabbed the I-pad and searched the contacts for his wife. She will either tell me everything I want to know or to go fuck myself. I wasn’t really in a position to care. She told me everything I needed to know and more.

Everything he told me about himself was a lie! He never went to jail. The whole Joe Mafia persona was to impress me. He was 36, not 37. He was also the one who got her into drugs. He just conveniently helped himself get better, while allowing her to spiral further out of control. He was buying her the drugs. It was him who put her in financial ruin and maxed out all of her credit cards, not the other way around like he had told me.

I had heard enough. My head was literally spinning. I knew everything I needed to know. I was living with a complete stranger.


He came home that day after work and I stood behind the kitchen counter staring at him. Ew- I thought. What a fucking loser. I did not tell him about my revelation right away. I kept it to myself and watched his behavior closely, the things he said were all part of this fake life he created for himself. It was scary.

His number one female follower, Sheep Two told me Shwolf did not want to go through the pregnancy with me because I was not ambitious enough for him or motivated. He needed someone more like Fiona, a hard working lawyer that couldn’t afford to put gas in her car or buy a drink for herself at the bar.

That was annoying mainly because he used to tell me what losers his friends were and how they always depended on him to pay their way, so this- coming from her mouth especially, was a low blow.

Now, I was the loser that impregnated myself to clear out his nonexistent millions. How convenient. Talk about projection.

Are Fiona and The Sheep really that stupid to believe this mess or do they just want me out of the way so they can cash in on some free meals and drinks? I assumed it was the latter because none of them looked like they missed a meal. Sheep One was one cheese fry away from a heart attack.

“I’m going out tonight. I can’t handle you and this drama.” he said. “Where are you going” I replied. “Sheep One and Sheep Two’s house.” I knew what that meant.

Sheep One and Sheep Two were married. That is where he went to go get high and sit like a cave dweller until the early hours of the morning. They were his loyal followers because he helped them out with money. He basically bought their loyalty and the right to trash them behind their backs. They were like his minions, always singing his praises. Anything I said to Sheep Two or Fiona went back in Shwolf’s ear with some extra sauce on it. They were not my friends. They were his.

I knew he was going out this time because of the state I was in. He knew I was too preoccupied with the situation to go anywhere. There was no pity party fashion show.  It was as if he was using my sorrow as fuel. He changed quickly and left. Leaving me depressed and alone in our living room was good enough for him. After all I was trying to leave him. I deserved it. While I sat home miserable and alone this would give him time to find my replacement, so when I finally did leave it wouldn’t matter.

My friend Nina Kray ended up coming over and we sat on the couch watching movies and crying. Each of us with our own set of problems. “I can’t believe he left you like this!” she sobbed. “I’m sorry for you and what you’re going through.” I replied. We eventually fell asleep wallowing in each other’s sorrows. It was pretty pathetic, but I’ll never forget that she was there for me.

I woke up at 5AM and Shwolf still wasn’t there. I called him. “Where are you?” I asked. “I’m at my mom’s. I don’t want to deal with you right now. I’ll come back later.” I hung up with him and started to cry. He was lying. I guess this is what his mother meant by running.

I looked around the room at a picture of us when we first started dating. Where was that guy? How is this happening? I thought. I should have left a long time ago. I called him again, no answer. Again-no answer. I decided to go lay back down and have a day with the dogs when I woke up. I guess it did not really matter what he was doing anyway. #nowthatsthefuckingtea  TO BE CONTINUED….


2 thoughts on “Nightmare on 7th Street: Part 2

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  1. You are killing it!

    1. keepingitrealwithkash|

      Ugh. I know. Nice to get it out of this computer and off this chest. 🙌🏼

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