My Dad
My Dad was yelling at me the other night. My grades are slipping. I'm ruining my life. I only spend time with Joe. You know; the usual yelling. I wanted so bad to scream, "Maybe my grades are slipping because I've been depressed as hell for the last year. Maybe I'm not ruining my life but your expectations are simply too high. Maybe I only hang out with Joe because he's practically the only friend I've got." but instead, I kept it all in, and took the yelling; the harshness; the words... like I always do... and I vowed, that night, that I'd never live with my Dad...Isn't it funny how that was always my dream, and suddenly, in a few years, I realized how much I'd hate for that to happen. For me to live with my Dad, I mean. For me to have to take his abuse, all the time... his anger... his screaming... his fits...
I don't need it, and yet, I always thought it'd be better than home.
I was one fucked up child.
posted by Stephi @ 7:59 PM
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