Have you ever read something that not just made you feel absolutely shitty, but also made you think of how much your life sucks? Well… I just did.
Ever since July, my life has been so shitty. Scratch that. Ever since 2004, my life has been so shitty. I don't know which year was worse. 2004 was when it all begin, though. That's when the asshole started all his bullshit. Him and his lies and theories. When he kicked my dad out. I remember my mom and I being so devastated about the whole thing. All we wanted to do was pack our stuff and get out. We packed our stuff alright. The only problem was... we had no place to go. My dad was still working at MIT, so I don't understand why we didn't look for a place when my dad had a job. It just makes so much sense now, that we're idiots we didn't do it then. I remember the day the asshole told my dad he had to leave. July 16th. My mother's birthday. What a great person he is, huh? He tells his own flesh and blood, his own DAUGHTER that her husband has to leave. Who in their rightful mind does such a thing to family? Back then, I was young and foolish. I didn't know what to think of the situation. I couldn't do anything. To this day, I still try to think of ways I could have helped. But I can't. From 2004 all the way until 2006, the only way I could see my father, was by meeting him down the street. He wasn't allowed on the property. My father's car became my second home. Every single day, my mom and I would walk down the street to meet him in his car and drive away. To Lexington. To Lincoln. To Newton. To New Hampshire. To other parts of Waltham. To Sudbury. To Concord. To any city/town close. That's how I saw my father. During the Summer, it was fine. Then you add in school. I would see my father everyday after school. My mom would pick me up and I'd come home to drop my stuff off quick, go to the bathroom, and then call up my dad to come pick us up. That was my life. You wouldn't BELIEVE me if I told you how many fights I witnessed of my mother and father. Sitting in the backseat with the music playing in my headphones, trying to drown out the sounds of the yelling and screaming going on in the front seat... I cried. I sat there and cried. I felt so helpless. So lost. I always remember asking myself, "Why me?" And that's where I came to the conclusion... I don't have a family. I don't believe in families. I hate families. It wasn't fair that other kids got to go home after school and see their father, waiting for them at home or seeing them after they got out of work. I had to see my father in a fucking car. I tried so fucking hard to keep my grades up. I had little time to study and do homework. I would get home from school and be out with my mom and dad until 8/9 at night. Those little rides we took were later called "The Bourque Family Car Rides" by people who never knew the whole story. They only knew that I went out with my mom and dad every night. They never knew why. What was I supposed to tell them? Then came 2006. We finally get a break, if that's what you would like to call it. Ever since I moved, I feel like I let everyone down. My mom. My friends. Myself. I love my mom so much, don't get me wrong. There are many times when we don't get along, but she's the only "family" member I truly can say I love. I don't like my dad 98% of the time. My brother and I aren't close anymore and my sister is never here. My friends? I can't even make them laugh anymore. I feel like I have no purpose in life if I can't make people laugh. That's like the biggest diss ever. I'd rather be called short than to have someone not laugh at what I just said/did. And if you know me, you know how pissed I get when people make fun of my shortness. I just feel like I'm not being a good friend anymore. Like I'm lacking something. I might as well become a loner since that's what it feels like. Or maybe people are just sick of me. And I don't blame them.... After my friends, I also let myself down. There hasn't been ONE day since I have moved where I haven't thought about that house. Every day, all I can think about is that house. I retrace the rooms in my mind, remembering exactly where everything went. Parents' bedroom. The Living room. The kitchen. The bathroom. Michelle's/my room. Billy's room. I still remember everything about that place. And it fucking haunts me.
If you're reading this (which is doubtful unless you read my away message and was wondering what was up), you're probably wondering what brought this on. I don’t really feel like getting into it. It’ll just make me even more depressed than I am right now just by thinking of what brought this on.
I’m the worse friend ever. And I hate it. :[ I wish I can change things and make things go back to the way they used to be. When my friends actually liked me and thought I was still funny. To when I could actually call my family, family. To when I did well in school. But that’ll never happen. Times never change for the good. They always change for the worse. I can’t think of anything worse than this.
1000 words were used in this.
Current Mood: 
sad
crazy
content