Helpless mosochistic love
I dont have a father, he shot himself when I was 3
months old. I'm sick of people saying im sorry, because
im not. I hate him I hope he burns in fucking hell for
eternity. He has no idea how he hurt me, I grew up
watching fathers playing with there children. And I ask
why? why werent you there, why did you kill yourself?
Why did I grow up learning from my bitch sister that it
was my fault you died. I was told it wasnt, but the fact
still took its toll on me. I still somehow believe her. I
know its bull but I somehow think that way now. I used
to cry so much because I wanted a father so badly,
someone to smile at me with that a beard or mustache
with a rugged look. At least thats my dream of what you
would look and do. But I cant dream anymore, nothing
in this world is prosperous with out dying.
Love too hate you father.
Hate loving you.
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