Hi, I'm just writing to say that I'm sorry I'm ****** up.
I'm sorry I can't do anything productive. I'm sorry I ******* up my siblings with my clothes and my music.
I'm sorry I'm a monster. I tried... I'm trying... But its hard....
I don't want to hate you but I do. I don't want to blame you but I do.
I blame you for teaching me that Jesus was the only life. I blame you for not even warning me of what this world can turn into.
I blame you for not being strong enough to get over my dad when he cheated on you.
I don't want to. But I do.
I blame you for marrying someone new when you weren't over Him yet.
I blame you for letting that imposter become the source of my brothers confidence issues.
I blame you for my 8 year old brother developing multiple social and mental problems simply because you couldn't control your husband.
Because he was righteous and a woman shouldn't stand up to her man.
I know its childish and I know I'm selfish.
And I claim that completely. I am who I am despite who you are.
I don't want you to take claim for what I've become.
I don't want you to tell your friends about the monster you made.
I want you to realize I am myself of my own accord.
I choose to be unhappy and I'm **** proud of that.
And I love you, though I wish I didn't.
I love you for finally leaving my brother's tormenter, even if it was later rather than sooner.
I love you for crying for my grandmother on her deathbed after you ignored for two years.
I love the fact that you cared enough, at one point in time, to try to keep me from becoming who I am today.
I don't know if these are good reasons and I don't know if you care.
But I blove you my mear dother, and I lame you.