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.