They say you took my innocence.
I say I gave you my heart.
They say you ruined my life.
I say you gave me life.
They say you brainwashed me.
I say you gave me the ability to think for myself.
They say you hurt me.
I say you make me feel better.
They say you will leave me.
I say you will never be out of my heart.

A pop quiz for my father.
First, we can start with the most basics.
What is my middle name?
Not the one that was given to me at birth without your input, but the one I gave myself at my conformation you didn't come to.
What are the names of my four best friends that you have never met and whom I have actively kept away from you?
What piercings do I have and where?
I know you have no idea because you haven't seen my face nor spoken to me since Christmas.

Now, let's move on to the more difficult questions.
No father should have any difficulty answering these.
What profession have I lusted after since I was six?
That could be hard for you because that was the same year you walked away from us.
What am I studying? What is my major?
We've never actually had a conversation about it so I wonder if you will be able to guess it.
What is my birthday?
A basic question for any normal parent, but I wonder if you really know the date because if you do that would make the fact that you didn't acknowledge my 18th birthday hurt even more.

Finally, to the questions I really want answered.
Just do your best and answer honestly.
Was it worth it? Was the alcohol you drowned yourself in worth losing your family?
Why did you insist on no contact for 431 days (I counted) with your children?
Do you regret walking out on us?
Did you ever love us?

Perfect* is all I've ever wanted
and all that has ever been expected of me.
Before I was even born, everyone just kept
saying what a perfect baby I'd be.

The first words that were ever uttered to
newborn baby me were, "It's a perfect baby girl."
I was perfect on that date because
I wasn't misshapen or deformed and could breathe.

Perfect was what I strived for all through childhood.
I was the perfect student,
except for those times when I wasn't.
Those times when I was less than perfect are the ones I remember.

In high school, things got harder
so I worked harder and longer to achieve the coveted gold star and 100%.
For me those moments were too far and few in between.
Perfect was all I wanted out of life.

The first time I was told I didn't have to be perfect
I was in my freshman year of college and panicking about a project grade.
My mother stated those words as if it were just that simple.
Those words broke the wall holding back the flood of tears and I finally felt *free.

I am so ******* tired.
I feel it in every bone and fiber in my being.
It is the type of exhaustion that settles in your mind and weighs on your body.
Adrenaline kept me going for a while
But now that that's gone what am I supposed to do?
I want to collapse and sink into oblivion.
You won't let me reach the sweet bliss of nothingness.
Why?
Why won't you just let me slip away?
I don't want to be here anymore.
I don't see the point of going through these stupid motions.
I am so done with the *******.
I am already halfway to oblivion.
My eyes require more and more effort to stay open.
Finally, I think it's over.
The blood that flows through my veins seems to congeal.
My mind and thoughts slow drastically.
It takes me two or even three times to comprehend something.
Time condenses so that it feels as though I have lived my entire life in the time it takes for it all to end.
Sending thanks to whatever rules the universe (just in case).
I am so grateful it is all over.

Don't you dare patronize me.
I'm not your stupid little ******* anymore.
You no longer have any claim to my mind or body.
I will never yield to you again.
My intelligence will not be questioned by you.
*******.
******* and your stupid games.
You made me question myself over and over again.
No longer.
No longer will I ever let anyone make me question myself.
I am resolute and firm in my beliefs.
And I believe, NO I know that I am more intelligent than you ever let me know.
You were poison running through my veins.
So I had to open a vein to purge you from my body.
That is why, as I lie dying, I blame you but know I am responsible.

Whenever there is room to wander
my mind always seems to go straight to you.
I wish that there is a way to
stop the onslaught of thoughts about you.
But no matter what road blocks I *****
you come barreling through.
I’m not sure why I expected any different.
You used to bust through my defenses
when you were still here.
But it was never enough for you, was it?
I let you in like I never let
anyone in before.
You took what you wanted
and left the rest for me to put back together.
I was never that great at puzzles, though.
My mind remains a jumbled mess
with most of the pieces missing or broken.
These broken shards stab at my heart
with every thought of you.
I know it should never hurt this bad
because we were never really together
and it has been six months since you ruined what could have been.
I have heard that time heals all wounds
but no wound can heal when I am continually picking at it.

Where was your god when my
grandmother, who loved and feared him
her entire life, lay in a hospital bed
suffering for the last years of her too short life?
Where was your god when I
prayed every night and day for my
father to get sober and for my parents
to stay together?
Where was your god when my
mother struggled to work three jobs and
care for and love her four children on her own
while she continued to go to mass every Sunday?
Where was your god when my
eight year old cousin and best friend
was ripped from existence before I
even understood what life and death are?
Do not tell me that god works in
mysterious and wondrous ways.
There is nothing mysterious or wondrous
about fighting to live every single day
alcoholism that consumes relationships,
a struggling mother doing her best on her own,
or a too short life that should be in the same place I am now.
So do not speak to me of a god who was
never there.