You would think that moving 2,000 miles away from the FOB would be enough to permanently exile him from my life. Unfortunately, this little thing called Zac bridges the gap between my life and the FOB's life. We have this tie between us that is stronger than just two people that used to be intimate. He is not my "ex-boyfriend". He is not just "the asshole that got me pregnant then refused to stop drinking, having loud parties, and smoking pot so I had to leave him, move to Texas, and live with my parents". He is all those things and the "Father of MY Baby" (although the acronym FOMB isn't as nice as FOB)
I realized that it had been over month since I had talked to him at the telephone conference for child support. I made the mistake of calling him, which is something akin to inviting the devil in. He told me how ashamed he is about how he treated me when I was pregnant (read: ignored me and refused to return my phone calls) and how ashamed he is that he isn't a part of Zac's life. He wants to move to Texas. To my little suburb of Houston, to be more specific.
This isn't really a new desire on his part. Every couple of months it will surface and then fade into the background as he finds a new job or a new set of friends to party with. The FOB has lost ANOTHER job in New Hampshire, so he thinks now is a good time to move. You see, I know this because he only talks to me when he needs something: information, money, or access to Zac. He asks the obligatory questions about my life, but I can tell that he doesn't care about me, even as a friend or as the mother of his child.
I've been struggling with this realization for the past three days and how much it hurts. He said, "Don't get the wrong idea, here. I wouldn't be moving for you. I would be moving because seeing Zac everyday, even for an hour, would make me happy." Is that what a father does? Sees their child for an hour to make themselves happy? Did I miss something in birthing class that said it was ok to use a child to make an adult feel worthwhile or amused or less of a deadbeat. He's not interested in helping me parent Zac, or even helping me with all of the jobs and responsibilities of raising a child.
Last night I remembered what it was like the first couple of months down here. How I cried almost everyday because I felt so sorry for myself. I couldn't see beyond my pregnancy, fear, and his abadonment of any idea of "family" or responsbility. I'm finally enjoying my life with my son and my new job - and now he wants to be a part of it? Because HE'S ready?
Do I have to forgive him for that?