It makes me feel stupid. I feel wasted and tricked. I haven't been able to acknowledge the reality of this situation... It's sick and it's twisted, this truth I have kept inside. "Do you miss your dad?" He asks. "I don't know." but he takes it as a yes, and I don't know how to explain... That I wasted all my years, my time, my tears, on this... This father. If you had seen my sobbing mother, her bloodshot eyes and pained figure, you would understand. But you didn't. You wouldn't understand. My mother never cried in front of me before until she spoke of my father. I then understood how she could stop loving such a man. My father, he hurt her. More than any man could. He hurt me and my brothers and I am still feeling that pain to this day. My father, he was a cruel man. Selfish and destructive. My father, whom I once loved and labeled as my hero, I am now trying not to despise. My father... I can not begin to explain what he did or how... I can not begin to explain him or what all he put me through... My father, he made me into who I am today. And for that I will forever hold against him.