IHATECHU

This is my son's father, Lucifer------->

I hate him so much. Sometime I just sit and think about how much I hate him and plot ways to kill him without doing any time. Only thing is, if something ever did really happen to the fucker under questionable circumstance, I'd be the very first person questioned. NOT because I'm the only one that hates him with the venom of a million venomous rattle snakes, but because I tell anyone who would listen how I'd like for him to not be alive anymore..including Lucifer himself. Now, yes, I do know how horrible it is to wish death on some one...and i have been so distraught over this that I actually cried hysterically to my sister over the phone one day because I hated him so much and I needed her to pray with me for the hatred to be removed from my heart. So, yea...I'm working on it. In fact, I had come to the conclusion before that perhaps it would be best if he just was a man about it and offed himself. you know, fall on his sword so to speak...the world would be a much greater place without him and his kids (3 by three different women) would at least get social security...which is more than they get from him while he's alive. But, now I'm feeling liek he is a real live evil do-er and it i smy duty to wipe him off the face of the Earth once and for all for the greater good of all mankind. *shrugs*

Now…for those of you who are thinking ‘Well you knew he was like that before you had his baby..” I say, Fuck ya’ll, ya’ll don’t know my life!!!! Lol Nah, but in ALL honestly, I was bamboozled. When I met him he had a five yr old daughter that he adored and who was always with him, his own apt and TWO jobs. TWO WEEKS before I found out I was pregnant I looked at him and decided I couldn’t mess with him any more cause at that moment he was high and looked like an absolute crack head. It was like I saw my future with him at that exact moment and I needed to run very far away from it. When I found out I had a baby on the way I let him know and told him that he could have or leave any parts of raising the baby that he wanted. He decided he wanted in. We worked on “us” and when I was 4 months he left me for an older woman who bought him shit. (Not even any shade, he himself said THAT was the reason). He then dropped of f the face of the earth and became her boy toy full time and acted as a dad to her two kids and I got over my broken heart, trekked back and forth to college taking classes and working. He called me out of the blue when I was almost six and a half months and had nothing productive to say or contribute to my pregnancy. I delivered my son prematurely less than a week later and yes I blame his ass for that. He made my body unwelcoming to my baby with the all of the emotions he stirred in me and my baby wanted out.

Through out my son’s life he has come and gone whenever he felt like it. My son is VERY aware of who his father is and even spends summers with him. (More like with his father’s girlfriend as his father whores around but still) The best way for me to demonstrate why I hate him would be to give you some examples of his character so that you guys can all have sympathy for me and want to help me rid the world of him:

When my son was born he was in the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit). Only immediate family member where allowed in this area and the hospital issued wrist bands to those allowed access- only two per family. Seeing as how I was a young (21), unwed college student, my mother was the second person with the wrist band. The day after my son’s birthday, my mom gave the wrist bad to Lucifer who came up ONE time to see my son (through out his entire 80 day stay) and then took the wrist band off…and eventually gave it back to my mom. Said he could stand to see his son laid up in no incubator.

When my son was released from the hospital, 80 days after his birth, I stayed home to take care for him and applied for welfare (my semester of school was over and I took the following semester off.) I lived off of saving and welfare for three months and then got a job. My mom watched the bay for me. In August, my mother couldn’t watch him anymore and his father acted as if he couldn’t either (even tho I said “watch him and I’ll work, you don’t have to pay me anything in child support). So I quite my job. Two months after quitting saving was running low…I told Lucifer that the baby needed walking shoes. He told me he was gonna be in his cousin’s wedding the following month and needed his money for that and that I couldn’t get blood from a turnip. My response? I can’t but I bet child support can. Apparently you need “the man” to help you get your priorities straight. It took me a week before I got a chance to file for child support and tell me why they already had a case pending listing ME as the defendant. This sucka had tried to be one step ahead of me by suing ME for visitation…dumbass…I still filed for support and made sure every day he asked for was when he had my son.

On one of he requested weekend… he picked my son up to have for the weekend and then bought him back fur hours later talmbout he and his girlfriend hadn’t been alone in awhile to have sex and they needed that night together.

What else…what else…?

Oh yea…he broke up with the chick he left me for when he went to visit his mom in NC and found another sucka “woman” with more money to support him. Then he up and moved to NC…did I mention BOTH his kids live in JERSEY???

He got ole girl pregnant within a month…and was BARELY fully broken up from chick he left me for.

He started having my son for the summer vacations after that and it would be his mom that my son stayed with mostly.

ALL OF THIS TIME MY CHILD SUPPORT PAYMENT HAVE BEEN SPORADIC B/C THE NIGGA REFUSES TO KEEP A JOB!!!

He calls my son about as often as he does make payment ..which ain’t much at all.

Fastforward to this summer (my son is 7 at this time). He and his now fiancé say they want my baby to stay down for the school. Year. Now this was something I’d actually told Lucifer when my son was born. When he turned five, I wanted Lucifer to be the sole guardian because I can’t teach a boy how to be a man. He agreed…but never got his shit together. So in the summer he and his “fiancé” were having a good week (cause Lord know every OTHER week they were breaking up their ghetto Brady bunch- {she has two kids from a previous relation ship, he has two and they have a child together}. Anyway, during this time they convince me that they wanted him to stay and everything was rainbows glitter down there. Their “wedding” was planned for August 14th; I told the fiancé that if he actually married her, my son could stay because that would be a very clear indication that he was a changed man. August 14th comes and goes…no wedding…in fact…they break up. *gasp*

Then Lucifer says he’ll be sending my son home.

THEN…less than a week later… Lucifer calls and gives me this speech about how he’s moving out on his own and still wants my son to stay down there. Fine. He tells me he needs me to send school clothes for him. I do.

THEN he says that he didn’t get the job he thought he would, so my son is coming home, but he’s gonna send for him in NOVEMBER.

Five minutes later he leaves a msg saying that he’s a man and he’ll work it out…my son is staying…he just needs his birth certificate and social security card to apply for this low income apt complex near his mom.

Fine I send that out AND a letter stating that he was to act as his legal guardian on my behalf since his name isn’t on the birth certificate.

Then he calls and says my baby has to come home. This time I say, “No. I send the paper. He’s your responsibility now.” I do this, because I didn’t want my bay back home, but because I knew he would try to bring him back then conveniently “forget” to bring back the docs and would no doubt claim my son as his dependent. Not I said the cat. I say “Nah, you got him now.” Click.

Then he calls and leaves a msg saying ‘U right, he can stay. Not cause you said so, but because I know what I gotta do as a man”. Smch

THEN he calls me AGAIN less than half an hour and leaves a msg saying I just wanted my son down there so I could run around in the bars and fuck niggas and that he know what the fuck he gotta do and I need to just work with him. And he gonna come to JC and “do what he gotta do” Mind you all this time I’ve agreed to whatever he’s asked.

After this message, I call his mother and she tells me that the “fiancé” mealticket girlfriend is moving from North Carolina to Georgia and said that my son couldn’t come along. Apparently, Lucifer wanted to follow his bread and butter…only son be damned. Makes sense…She then tells me that she and her husband want my son to stay down there with them (where he spent most of the summer anyway) and that we’ll let Lucifer think that he’s getting his way and that they’ll come up to visit in the beginning of September, pretend to drop my son off, and then take him right back down to NC with them

In November he left a msg on my moms phone saying that hi smother did drugs and he didn’t want my son down there with her and that I just had to be patient and he would’ve came and got him by now. I stopped listening, but my mom later told me that he also said he was going to sign away his parental rights. Sign them away to whom, idk…still patiently waiting on those papers.

Since November he’s been calling his mom’s phone to talk to my son asking about his teacher and what time he gets out of school and that he’ll see him soon,. As if he’s plotting to come and kidnap my son. I made it clear to his moms that I would treat him like a stranger if he did.. Amber alerts and all and that she should let him know he don’t wanna give me a reason.

On Christmas, his mother tells me that he called there for my son and said ‘merry Christmas…I’m gonna whoop your ass when I see you”. When my son asked why, Lucifer told him it was because he had a smart mouth. What was so smart about my son’s mouth? In the conversation they had had prior, Lucifer told my son that he was gonna come get him in a few months and my son said he didn’t want to go with him.

Oh yea..and remeber that whole situation with my ex-sister?  Yea, well it seems that after Lucifer called her husband he somehow forgot about his reasoning for calling and pretty much let dude convince him that it was nothing and that my son was just a big baby and I had him spoiled. Dude also gave very false info about how I was alway sgoing out. This couldn't be farther from the truth. Not only did I not go ANY where when my son was with me, but often times I had my son AND my nephews. So where the fuck was I going????? Smch.

There was one more thing I wanted to add.....what....was...it.....????? Damn, I can't remember..screw it...I think that's enough for now anyway. WAIT I remember... I infiltrated his facebook page under an assumed name and found out that LUCIFER IS A MENTOR in the city I live in. There it was as his profile pic, him at a basketball court with a bunch of young boys. His caption read how kids are the future and need men to show them the way yada, yada, yada. Did I mention the date stamp on the pic was July 09...when my son was in  NC...and Lucifer came up here with his "fiance" for "business". So he left his actual kids in North Carolina where they had come to visit HIM, just so he could come to THEIR homes city and mentor youth??? WTF. When my son gets home I'm taking him to that mentoring program. Maybe he'll get Lucifer as a mentor and get to actually spend some quality time with the son of a bitch. Smch.

So yea….I hate that motherfucker.

***My aplogies for any typos, run-on sentences, etc...I was mad as hell writing this****

An Open Letter to "Mr. Big"

I had the unexpected pleasure of seeing a picture of Her today and, all hating aside, I am not impressed. I can see what it was that drew you to her though (didn’t we always joke about how you love the chickens?) lol From her blunt-blackened lips to her bra-less, saggy breasts, to the blotches on her exposed "cleavage" that heavily resemble smudges of newspaper ink {wash much, bitch? I keed lol} she is all that you desire and more (the rooster haircut was more than even I had bargained for). Being able to put a face to all of the many . . . interesting . . .things you’ve already told me about her has opened my eyes quite a bit.

As much as I hate to play prophet (though a facebook quiz I recently took confirmed that prophesy is my calling) I can see your future clearly. In another year or so, Her will be pregnant with your child (well, this won’t actually be able to be confirmed until the DNA test results are in, but let’s hope for the best, mmkay?) and two years from now you’ll be racking your brain trying to figure out how you got yet another Bonequisha-esque, hoodrat chick pregnant. You’ll be at home with all of your little “chicken nuggets” while Her is out at the club dropping it like it’s hot right next to your first babymom’s (whom I affectionately have dubbed “Chicken Hut”)

Now I understand why you and I could not be. Despite your claims that Chicken Hut’s hoodrat ways came as a shock to you (even tho in the every next breath you told me how she was 14yrs. old drinking 40’s when you met her), I can now see that that is what you like. It’s ok, really. As much as they enjoy it, not every man can handle a real woman. Some men need their woman to be out in the clubs every night, neglecting their kids, flirting with their best friends and taking days off from work so that the can get high. I now understand why our deep discussions on everything from the best rapper dead or alive to gentrification to the state of the black family or our mutual interests in the works of W.E.B Dubois, Karl Marx and Herbert Spencer or us being able to go from homies to lovers to confidants to (respectful) debating opponents was not enough for me to preserve your affections. I can now see why despite my ability to “ride” for you (without you even being my man for most of our time knowing each other) and notwithstanding the fact that my strength was something you have always complimented me on (along with my mothering skills, cooking abilities and oral techniques . . . but I digress). As I was saying, in spite of the fact that you labeled me “The BEST, hands down” in my sexual abilities, today I can clearly see why it was Her that you chose and not I . . . .


You sir, are a pussy.

An Open Letter to "Lucifer (a.k.a. my son's sperm donor)

Dear Lucifer,

I hate you so much. You are the scum between my toes.

I hope all the bad things in the world happen to you and only you.

Please die.

Signed,


Enigma Jones

Introducing: "Ex-fiance"

*Written for Myspace on 4/18/08*
***************************************

I'm a snitch.

I am.

I'm the youngest of four daughters, hell, for the first few years of my life, snitching was my only source of income. One of my sisters' boyfriends had a nosy ass moms who used to pay me for dirt on them, And me, being the eager entrepreneur, provided her with all the dirt she could shovel. That is, until my sister got a job. Sorry Mrs. B, but inflation's a bitch and she was talking big dollars plus candy. So, I switched teams and began getting paid not to snitch.

Some things never change.

Here I am, damn near 10 years later and I'm still getting paid not to break up happy homes (Read: tell on niggas.)

SMH

Fucked up part is, I don't play fair. I never have. But I make it a point to let muthafuckers know this from the door, "I tell, nigga!!!". And I'm picky about what I tell. My thug addiction has left me open to witness first-hand some things that are just wrong, immoral and yes, got damned illegal. But I don't tell on my boos.

But my neighbor, the one with the dog that he neglects and that I adopted and that was barking in the back yard all night for three fucking days straight? Yes, that nigga got the cops called him. Those little bad ass crooks-in-training who thought they could steal a car and hide out on my block like my neighbors and I wouldn't think four 12-yr-old, rusty-nail smelling bastids driving around in a Honda wasn't odd. Yep, dialed the cops from my cell as I stood in front of one of them giving him the death stare that I'm famous for. "Lucifer" who thought he could move to another state and start a new family while being thousands of dollars in arrears with child support and then send my baby a post card saying "Hey". Yep, took that return address and went straight to child support with it. And lastly, guys who know that I know that they have a girl/wife/baby momma that they shack up with and yet still insist on being up in my face. .. yep, I tells on them too!

But, as I stated before, I don't play fair. So yes, I'll entertain them and take what ever they give and let them try their best to wine and dine my panties off, all the while believing that I will be the down ass side chick who's just cool with them going home to someone else at night.

Until I get bored and/or she calls me.

Then, it's fair game. I'm telling 'errthing. Fuck I gots to lie for? Especially if my only real crime is taking advantage of the kindness of strangers stupidity of cheaters?
My ex-fiancé {he is only called this because he bought a ring and proposed. We never had an actual engagement and you'll see why in about 5 seconds}, a man who left me for another chick, proposed while he was still with said chick, (priceless!) and continued to call and profess his undying love for me even after the two of them moved in together, produced a child and all that other ghetto love crap, learned of my snitch status the hard way.

Recently, after about a year or so of us not speaking or seeing each other at all., he resurfaced. Since my Mr. is currently unavailable (I put that as a link so that you lazy bastards who have yet to request and subscribe to my other page can do so now and get the full story). I entertained the ex-fiance when he called a few weeks ago. He called out of the blue one night and rather than cutting him up the entire time like I usually do, I took a different route.When he went throught the "How's my lil' man doing?" crap that he usually does ( I shouldn't really call it crap though seeing as how he was with me when TLC2 was born and for the first two years of his life and has been more of a father financially to TLC2 than "Lucifer" even after we split, but I digress)

Anywho, when he started asking about TLC2, I played the "Lord what is I gon' do?" card and started bitching about tuition and T-ball fess and uniforms, rada, rada, rada. 3 days later, tuition paid.

Now, his girl friend and I have the same relationship any 2 females in our situation would have. In the beginning, I hated her for being a home-wrecking skank whore and she pitied/hated me for being the bitch her man kept running back or, as he his version went, the "crazy ex who couldn't let go". Then, as I began to get him out my system, I hated her for being a clueless skank whore who couldn't keep her man on his leash and she hated me for being the bitch her man kept running back to. Now, I'm amused by her for being a dumb, enabling skant whore who still can't keep her man on his leash but now is worse because she has to know that he really ain't shit but she's so afraid of losing that second income that she plays dumb like she don't know he's still a whore and couldn't possibly give a fuck about anyone but himself and his daughter and who is getting exactly what she deserves because she should have listened when ppl said "the way you get him is the way you lose him". And, in return she hates me for being the bitch her man keeps running back to who really doesn't even want him anymore but is willing to take his money and make him pay for being the sole reason that the winter of "03 is but a blur of tears and Tylenol pm.

So, long story short. She called me.

Her: Who dis'?

Me (laughing a hearty laugh and knowing exactly who it is since I'm with "Rocky" and I know it bet not be a bitch about him because I will gut a bitch like a fish if it is): Umm. . . Tasha, I think you have the wrong number.

Her: What? Who the fuck is this and how you know me?

Me: It's me Tasha. It's always me. No matter what you do . . . he just insists on keeping in contact with me. I tried to tell you. . .

Her: I know this is not no fucking "Enigma".

Me: The one and only. Now, what can I do for you?

Her: Just tell me if ya'll fucking.

Me (laughing): Oh no, we're definitely not fucking.

Her: So why the fuck is he calling you?

Me: Damn, funny how the tables turn, huh? Remember back when it was me asking you this and you said "Cause that's my dude", all the while fucking his brains out? Wow. . .

Her: So if ya'll not fucking, why is he calling you so much. This number is in here like ten fucking times.

Me: I know right? That nigga be beat as hell calling me all the fucking time, You need to get his ass a chew toy to keep him busy while you at work, shit!

Her: Alright look, I know we did you dirty back then, but the game is different this time around, we got a family and shit.

Me: silence.

Her: Hello?

Me: Yea, I'm here.

Her: Did you hear me?

Me: Yea, I heard that bullshit, I'm just trying to figure out why we're still on the phone.

Her: I just need to know what's going on.

Me: I'm not sure what you wanna know. I already told you I'm not fucking him. My days of sharing that dick with you are long gone. Trust.

Her (sounding defeated and truly confused): I just don't understand why he keeps calling you. He said ya'll were thru and that he didn't give a fuck about you. So why is he still blowing up your phone and shit?!?!?

Silence

Her: HELLO!

Me: Uh uh. . see now. . .don't start wit' that yelling shit cause you will get off this phone with a bruised ass ego. I already told you, I don't know what you want to hear and frankly this convo ain't nearly as amusing as I initially thought it would be so. . .

Her: Alright. Just tell me this. Have ya'll gone out or anything?

Me: "Out"? Hell to the naw, my boyfriend would choke the shit outta me if he heard I was walking the street with some nigga. Hell no!

Her: So why . . .

Me (actually starting to feel kind of sorry for the girl): Listen, he just checks in every now and then to see if me and my son are alright, that's all.

Her: Yea, I figured that, but why??? Why the fuck he worried about your house when he here. It ain't his responsibility to be looking in on ya'll like ya'll his family. That's not even his fucking baby!!

Me (taking a deep breathe, any trace of sympathy now gone because for some reason that shit hit a nerve): Alright listen, whether you want to acknowledge it or not, dude still sees us, me and my baby, as his family. And I doubt if he's going to stop trying to take care of us and make sure we're alright anytime soon. Now if I were you, I'd be less concerned about figuring out why he's still checking in on me and really try and ponder why it that your rent for this month is going to have to wait to get paid until next payday and what he did with that $930 instead.

Her: What? He gave you money???

Me (realizing that I have my own man and issues to worry about and frankly getting tired of holding the phone and kinda mad that I'm now going to have to rewind and start the episode of "Dirt" all over again cause this bitch can't control her emotions): Tasha I gotta go because I don't even want to compromise being the bigger person by rubbing shit all in your face as some kind of revenge. I'd be dead ass wrong for pointing out how ironic it is that when the two of you started fucking around, you made it a point to rub those funky ass air force ones that he bought you in my face and now here you are, 3 yrs later with your heart all invested in this nigga, a kid and still no ring and a late fee for your rent cause your man want to be paying tuition bills for kids he ain't even make and shit. I gotta go. But be sure to tell him I said "thanx" when he comes home.

Click.

She called back but I didn't answer.

He has since called to. He left me a message saying that he knew it was going to happen because even though he knew better than to store name and number in his phone, her seeing the number sooo many times and it not being stored was what tipped her off. He apologized for her calling and said it was fucked up that I told cause I could've just hung up on her. Apparently, he's going to let shit cool down for a few weeks before he tries to call me again, but I can just email him if me or TLC2 need anything and that it be easier for him to get shit to me if I would just be cool if she ever called again. (Cause apparently he has no plans on not keeping in touch with me)

SMH

Some niggas never. fucking. learn. . .


Fin.

Let's finish the Mr. Big saga up, shall we? (Pt. I of II)

After seeing Mr. Big's status change to "In a Relationship", I stopped speaking to him for awhile. Somehow, on the day he actually came to do the exchange of belongings routine, we ended up "chiefing" and started talking casually again. (No, we didn't sex that night) I was, however, able to get some alone time with his blackberry (Yes, I know I shouldn't, but I do. I'm a work in progress) Anywho, I was able to read the more recent texts from his "Her" and found out that they were not in a relationship at the time. ( apparently him having two children was something she was not sure she was ready to deal with) Now the "Her" in question is someone that he and I spoke about often while we were boo loving. We both knew that the other had bench players in the background and we would talk about them often. "Her" was someone he described as a "chicken with a Masters". Yes, she had her degrees(s) but she was unemployed and if he text her at 12 noon asking what she was doing, her reply would usually be either "On *insert random hood block here* smoking with *insert random ghetto ass name of friend here*" or "Watching Jerry Springer". He'd told me that after “Her” bragged about how guys usually told her how bomb her sex was, he had to hold back from laughing in her face the first time they did it because it was so whack and her sex faces were so ugly. Also, among a host of other things, he often spoke about how he often had to give her the “bitch whatever!” side eye. Oh, and let's not forget the time he told me he'd picked her up to "cheif" and she left an "odor" in his car when she got out. (yea)

Now the two of them begin talking in July of last year. For the summer, he wild out and smutted the place up while I “dated”. By the time October rolled around, Mr. Big and I were on full on “boo boo” status. He was at my house most nights, we cooked together, laughed/cried about life together, played Xbox together, had bomb ass sex together and in November I convinced him that I wanted to meet the “Chief” and he made it happen. Christmas rolled around and we shopped for our children together, hell, I even wrapped his sons’ presents while he was at work. New Year’s Eve we bought 2009 in in the 69 position, together. Sometime between then and Valentine’s Day something happened. I remember one night he stood me up and then gave me a foogazy reason. That let me know that something or someone one was affecting his actions towards me. So about a week after he had been a no-show, we were standing in my kitchen cooking and I asked him the status of his “team”. He told me for the most part that it had been dismantled, but that “Her” and he had been talking more lately and were good friends. He said she had recently contacted him to “talk” and that they had been speaking again, but not having sex. I was visibly upset about this for a couple of reasons. For one, when we’d first started talking again, he had just gotten out of a long-term relationship with his sons’ mother and she had did him extremely dirty. I was there for him. I listened to him bitch about her, I gave him advice on how to handle his kids’ well-being. In essence, I was his fucking rock thru his hard time.

The two of us had never said we would be together. He never promised that once his shit was together it would be “us”. But I would be lying if I said that was not exactly what I believe in the back of my mind. I knew he had to mourn the end of the relationship and get back on his feet. I also knew that he and I being together would cause major issues with him, his sons’ mother and his sons (at one point in our relationship, I alerted his sons’ mother to the fact that he and I were together. The abridged version: he had told me they were broken up, I fell in love, I found out the truth, I blew up his spot like an army grenade, his son’s mother saw me as the Devil, they stayed together and I threw up deuces.)

Anyway, when he and I were back “on”, everything was so right and came so naturally that I had ASSumed that we felt the same way about each other and that once he was ready we would be (naturally) be together. Ok, I was wrong.

The night before Valentine’s Day he had stayed over and left for work that morning. We hadn’t had sex in about a week (that equated to about a month for us). We were no longer talking on the phone as often and it was no longer assumed that he would be in my bed at night.

About a week after Valentine’s Day, he had stayed over again and I had managed to spend some quality time with his blackberry again. (yea, I know). I had read texts from him to two of his platonic friends and he was talking about his “Boo” to them both. While one of the friends remarked “I guess you can turn a ho into a housewife” to his claim that she was “impressing him”, the other friend wrote that he deserved to be back in love. Oh, did I mention that the “boo” in question was not me??? This crushed me to no end and the next morning I was out of it. I got dressed and off to work as he still lay in my bed. When I got on the train he called me, he had seen me upset that morning and wanted to make sure I was ok. As I sat on the train crying behind my dark shades, I somehow managed to ask him the question that had always been hanging in the air. ‘If you were ready, would it be me?” He let out a deep breath like he knew the day would come when I would muster up the courage to ask and then he replied: “I doubt it. I think I need to start over with a whole new girl”.

Did I mention that HE WAS STILL IN MY BED WHEN HE TOLD ME THIS????

He then said that he and I needed time apart so that we could try to salvage a platonic friendship. I asked him if he really thought he would be able to be with someone else and not come to me for his “girlfriend needs” (i.e crying, bomb sex and that general chill factor, you know, the person you are once the stage lights are off and your at home with the costume that you let the world see you in hanging in the closet). He told me that he knew what he was giving up but that he felt like it was what he had to do.

I think my heart just exploded

Mr. Big just changd his facebook status to "In a Relationship".

It's been exactly one week since he thought "we need some space".

Ouch.