The moment I fix my life, I’m leaving this fuckface I used to trust so much, I’ll legit fix the s*** he won’t fix, find my dad a proper home, and then pack my things and take my damn dog with me. To live your life with anger and just all out nastiness, its a wonder that your kids are awkward around you. You’re the epitome of a child. A 34 year old child and it shows. You want to be alone? Cool, be alone.
I used to love you. I really did. I tried talking and fixing YOUR problems because I wanted to grow as a couple with you. I slit with you because you weren’t who you used to be. Nice, loving, considerate. Now you’re like that for someone to cook you food and to be your emotional punching bag.
Enough. This weakminded ideal that I should take responsibility for YOUR s*** has to go. I’m going to start by fixing everything that I’ve neglected by helping you.
