Dear Dad

I’m your daughter, not your psychiatrist. 

I know you’ve been through a lot of shit in the past 2 years, but I’ve been through all that and then some.  

I know I’m supposed to be strong, but aren’t you supposed to be stronger? 

For once I’d just like for a phone call where you ask me how I’m doing and what’s going on in my life, instead of calling just to bitch and complain about yours. 

Until then I suppose that I’ll keep trying to figure out all of your shit, before I even think about mine. 



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