For as long as I can remember I have hated my father.
At first I was really unaware as to why this was.
I struggled to understand the hatred I felt deep within my heart.
As I got older though I realized what it was it was as bright as bright could be.
My father was ruining my life before my eyes and those around me.
Given my age there was nothing that I could do and it seemed that no one else could or would do anything.
I was destined to remain the arms and hands of my father until I was old enough and strong enough to escape.
That day came and I couldn’t wait.
Finally I was able to get away and there was no way that he could track my movements and make unexpected or even dreaded visits to me in the middle of the day or night.
I was free.
Although I wasn’t completely free I was still tormented in my mind and heart.
I was confused and distraught.
I pushed these feelings aside and did only what I knew how.
Most guys didn’t mind.
I was the friend with extras.
Until it all came crashing down on me.
My mind couldn’t take it no more and I fell hard and fast.
I was tormented by the past and not able to continue to focus on the present or possible future.
I still am.
My mind is being torn apart from the inside out and I can’t stop it and I can’t think straight.
I can’t think straight enough to write this.
I wouldn’t even be able to explain why I am writing this.
Sometimes you just have to get it out there, out of your head.
Does it help? Not enough to make a difference.