Why can't life just let me be...


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2. The one that left us...

When I was born I was born to a teen mom, nineteen to be exact.  she didn't have much money and she didn't have my dad. My dad doesn't come into the story until i turn three. But my father was there, he was the one that left us.  I don't remember him, my father, not at all. All i can remember is the story's I've been tolled.  Yet how am i to tell if they are the truth for i have nothing but something locked up deep inside.  i see the pictures my mom keeps locked away in the little wooden box of my childhood photo album.  my mother cringes every time she sees me open it, she wants to know if it's time yet.  Time for her to tell me about my father, the one left us.  Even though she knows it's not time i think she needs to be the one to tell me when it's time to here. She my mother needs to tell me who he is and what my future holds. she needs to be strong enough to tell me where i come from.

I've been tolled that he was a horrible person and that he did horrible things, but i can't chose to believe that right now i can't decide who someone is.  i have wrote him many letters and many angry notes, telling him that he is a no good nothing and he has no right to be my father, or my dad.  but over all he doesn't want me, if he did he knows where to find me. i know only little of that part if my life, the occasional grandparent visits and the seasonal post cards. i feel sad at the thought of someone not wanting someone to be there's and how they just shut them out and don't care what they see or don't see. I've never had a single post card, a single letter or even a Birthday card... he makes me feel...unloved.

my father makes me stay awake at night and think about my future... i think about all the great things i have over come and all the things i will one day accomplish, driven by the thought of i just want to show him that i don't need him, which i have already done and will forever continue doing.

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