Monday, June 4, 2012

something I posted elsewhere

My mom divorced my dad some time ago...My brother was six...
the repressed memories uncorked later...and I decided not to tell my brother so that my brother could have some vague excuse of an actual dad.

Trust me it's been a vague excuse.

But anyway, I did finally attempt to tell my brother...and he said that first, he really didn't want to know...but that he didn't really like or respect dad anyway. I replied...after thought "Ok....But you and ______ are trying to have kids.You need to know that if you have a girl don't leave her alone with him."

....Today, my mom called me to warn me my father was at the house so I would not stop by. Ok, cool.
So then she started rambling about my dad's dilapidated car, and I said, "Mom, I've got a giant grin on my face as I'm imagining myself stabbing him repeatedly. The thought of killing him makes me really happy. I would love to be able to kill him and am really, really looking forward to his death."

Mom kind of got off the phone after that...

Yanno, I really enjoy hating him sooo much..

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