I hate this day. I hate that this day exists. I hate that I have to be reminded of the whole concept of fathers and good dads and all that shit. It just grinds the knife deeper that I lived in hell for 14 years with the fucktard sperm donor who did his best to ruin my life, physically, mentally, emotionally (and then some) abusing me every day and that others didn't. It's not that I'd wish that hell on anyone else, but fuck, it's not like I deserved to be put through it myself.
Had to get up early after not sleeping all night. Went and had breakfast with my Love's parents and brother. And don't get me wrong, his folks - and his dad - are great. But it's that much more salt in my wounds that he got that. And still has the beautiful, good, all-american, normal relationship. Just reminds me of how much not only I endured, but how much I missed out. And so I hate this day.
And that's enough said about all of that.
~ flowers bloom near Memory and Dream
at 6/20/2004 05:34:41 PM ~
~
