Monday, February 8, 2010 @ 10:27 PM
I come from a broken family. I only have a mother. I do not have a father. I have repeated this many times over. You guys don't know why I hate him so much, because you don't understand.
You don't know how it feels like to be strangled by your own father.
You don't know how it feels like to be suffocating and gasping for breath after being strangled by your own father.
You don't know how unreasonable he is.
You don't know how he speaks like the world owes him everything.
You don't know how bad living with him is.
You don't know how he snaps at you at little things and does the same himself.
You don't know how violent he gets.
You don't know how many times I've called the police.
You don't know how many times I told them not to come in the end.
You don't know how many times I lied that I'm okay.
You don't know how many times I lied that I'm safe.
You don't know how often I hide my real emotions.
You don't know how my life is like.
You don't know how he treats people.
You don't know how much time he spends with us.
You don't know how I feel.
You don't know how self-centered and short-tempered he is.
You don't know how alike we are in so many ways, causing this friction.
You don't know how long I spend on the internet finding out about emancipation.
You don't know how many times I wished they would divorce.
You don't know how it feels like growing up without a father and being forced to acknowledge one.
You don't know how neglected I feel.
You don't know how I was constantly compared with other whilst growing up.
You don't know how his face matters most.
You don't know how my family works.
You don't know how it's always her, me and her, never with him.
You don't know how I think of us, single mum with 2 kids.
You don't know how much I detest him, based on everything he has done.
You don't know how I've been though in 2009.
You don't know how I felt when I heard him on the phone years ago.
You don't know how much he stays out.
You don't know how it's like.
To you, it may be like I'm the teenage rebel. But fuck you all who think that.
I respected him. Until a certain point. But I believe he has to earn that respect. I can have basic respect for him, but he has to earn the rest. Tell me, would you respect your father if all he does when not working is eat drink and make merry?
I don't need him to remember my age, my school, my class, my friends, my favourite ice cream flavour, my favourite places, my handphone number, my birthday even. I just need him to be there. Guess that was too difficult for him. He tried to be there, once, when I started skipping school. But how can I open up to someone who never cares, never remembers. Will you suddenly tell him all your relationship problems, all the things you worried about, the obstacles you're facing just because he suddenly asked?
Even if I gave in another time, he won't change. Men and their ego. Can't stand their fucking ego. To apologise doesn't mean that you admitted you're wrong, it shows that you want to make things right. You don't. You may claim you do, but I don't see you trying. I am trying. I did try. So many times over the past year. Did you?
Why is not home now huh? Why does he come home at ungodly hours like 2am, 4am, 5am? Don't tell me he's working cause he bloody isn't. Forget it. You don't understand, and never will. Cause you are not living my life.
I'm trying to talk to people about it. I'm trying to talk to mummy about it. But all she does is side him. How can I talk to her when all she does is bloody fucking side him?!
/edit: Don't say I didn't try. I did. One minute into the conversation and she is siding him again. Things won't change, it never will.