thoughts | parted

I think a lot, and this is what I think at times


1. 22:42 |1-11-2014

I am broken. And it was you who ruined me. My own father. You screwed up everything. It took you four months to screw it up. Are you proud? Proud of putting a 16-year old through having to leave her own father? Are you fucking proud of putting your own daughter through having to flee like a coward from her own home, because she was too scared to confront you face to face? 

And all you say is that you stopped? That you know you've been drinking too much the last couple of weeks? That's not good enough. It's not good enough. I can't take anymore of your excuses, all of your chances are gone.

You chose the bottle over me. Do you realize how much it hurts to have some lame fluid crashing through your veins mean more to you than me? You could've hit me in the face with an aluminium baseball bat, and it would've hurt less. And it would've healed. My trust to you isn't gonna come back. You can't win me over.

I never thought it would be this bad, but deep inside, I knew. We all did. 

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