Living in Her Letters

Dear Father,

From the point of my very early adolescence we’ve had countless problems. But, in spite of that, I’m writing this because you are my father, therefore I still care somewhere deep down. I know that you still feel something toward me, regardless of how many times you said you hated me, how many times you left me bruised. I haven't, nor will I ever forgive you for what you’ve done to me. But, despite that, I’m writing this to you. My reasoning behind this is nothing short of spiteful, I want you to understand that what you did to me was wrong. I was thirteen, but you had no remorse. You beat me down for trying to be who I was, and successfully killed that young girl. But as time went on, even though you were relentless in trying to whip me into being who you wanted me to be, I kept true to myself. I created a new, stronger person. I think that, if anything, that’s what I thank you for, you made me strong enough to be my self and tell anyone who had a problem to go fuck themselves. That being said, I think this is long over do, GO FUCK YOURSELF. Childish? Maybe. Needed? Absolutely. You deserve anything that comes your way.

You were supposed to be my dad, but you didn’t act like it. Just because I was different you threw me out, wrote me off, like I was suddenly nothing to you. Which I wasn’t, not after that. It changed everything. But I have no remorse for what I’ve done. I knew what I did was right, I felt that it was right for me. Now, think of this letter as a life time of screams, one for each time you brought me down.

Out of everyone you contributed most to my decision. You destroyed my hopes and dreams before I even got to chase them, and with that I saw the world for what it was. And that was something I couldn’t handle, this is not somewhere someone as vunerable and broken as me can survive. It just wasn’t right. You didn’t have the right to do this to me, but you did.
All I can say is, are you happy now?

Sincerely,
Morning