The only reason I wish my dad was still alive is because I wish I could have killed him myself. I wish I stabbed him to death so I could some compensation on how he treated me as a kid. Now he’s dead from f****** cancer and I don’t feel relived, in fact I feel worse. So much worse. All I wanna do is cry and hurt myself instead. Because that’s the closed thing to hurting him, is hurting the thing he created.