fifteen.

my dad called me tonight and sounded really upset. i knew why he was upset but i just try not to think about it. he said he was sorry. he said he was sorry that he hurt me and that he hopes that i can forgive him. and he said he loves me. he was crying.
even though my dads actions have really thrown my life through a loop, i still worry about him everyday. i worry about his health and i hope that he is happy. it is a lot of mixed feelings. like i want him to know what he did messed me up, but i don't want him to be sad. i still love him.
so i started crying.

he changed the subject and i did my best to pretend i was fine so he would feel better.

i wanted to call someone and talk to them about it. i wanted to get it all out and have someone understand. and be there for me. but i didn't call any of my friends like i wanted to. i thought maybe my brother got the same call so i called him, but he didn't answer. i haven't told anyone. and no one reads this so it will be a secret for a while.

i love and hate my dad at the same time. i hate what happened and i hate how he lies all the time. i hate how he leads these two separate lives. and i hate all the terrible things he has said to me in the past. but i love him because he is my father. and we have always understood each other. i am him to a T. i have his eyes and his ears and his hands. we walk the same and have some of the same facial expressions. he has admitted to me that i am the favorite out of all of his kids. i want him to be proud of me. and i want his acceptance of any boys that come down the road.

ironically, it is this month four years ago everything changed. and in a few weeks marks the anniversary that he moved out. i was fifteen when it happened. look at the date.
i can see why maybe he was thinking about it.

i can still remember everything from that night perfectly.
i rather not think about it right now.