On the 12th day of Christmas My Baby Daddy Gave to Me: 10 “I’ma do better” texts

Dre:

She blocked me. Again.

Said I was all talk and no change.

Cool. I get it. I ain’t shit... yet.

But I’m clean. I’m here. And I’m not leaving until I’m back in that house, that bed, and that kitty I still dream about.

Yeah, I sent 10 “I’ma do better” texts.

This time I brought proof.

And if she opens that door, I swear I’m putting in work like I never did before.

Imani:

He always pops up when the weather turns cold.

Same hoodie. Same lies. Same pole that ruins everything.

But this time he’s talking different. Moving different. Clean.

And my dumb ass? I let him in for ten minutes.

Now he’s on my couch like he never left.

I should’ve made him sleep outside.

Instead I rode him like forgiveness was hiding in his stick.

Ain’t no mistletoe. Just mistakes.

We’re toxic. We’re tired. We’re trying.

And this Christmas?

He either becomes the man I needed back then

or I ruin him before New Year’s.