happy fucking fathers day.

you were never there, you didn't even do a very good job at pretending to be there for me or my mum. i understand why i didn't find out about you until after i'd turned 18, in a way i hate it but in a way i know it's for the best. 

it fucks me off that you were just swanning around doing your own thing for years and years when my mum and dad, my real dad were doing everything the could to give me a good life and stuff and for that i'm so grateful, of course i am and i know that i could of had things so much worse but i got into this cycle of being like 'oh it could be worse, it could be worse...' and for over a year that's been just fine, until now. it's not fine, for me it doesn't get worse. well, being betrayed like a son of a bitch during the whole thing (oh good times!) made things slightly worse but yeah. 

last year i sent you a card, what the hell was i thinking?! did i get a birthday card off you for my 18th? for any of my birthdays? any christmas cards? anything? i'm not a hard person to get on with, in fact, i'm a bit of a push over, it's pretty pathetic to be completely honest with you and if i could do anything to change a lot of me then i would, i've tried and tried but no, complete fail.

i hate how i think i was used as a weapon. i hate how i wasn't good enough to come back to. i hate how that has stuck in my head. i hate how much i cave in and get upset when i think about it. i hate how i never allow myself to think about it. i hate how i don't allow myself to discuss it with anyone properly. i hate how you're in my dna. i hate how your surname is on my birth certificate. i hate how i let this bother me. 

HAPPY FUCKING FATHERS DAY, YOU ABSOLUTE WASTE OF SPACE.