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So, my relationship with my dad’s side of the family is a little messed up. Okay, that was an understatement; it’s a lot messed up. Growing up I was the apple of my dad’s eye. I couldn’t give two shits what my mum told me to do or the authority she was meant to have. My dad was my everything, and I was his. But, families crumble a part sometimes, and that’s what happened to mine. Only, my dad didn’t just leave my mum, he left me and he left our relationship behind. He just stopped caring. He just went out, got himself a new wife, had a new daughter and that was it. He made it look about as easy as buying a new car. He doesn’t even know me anymore. Ask him what my favourite colour is, or what movies or food I like, or ask him what the first show I performed in was called, he wouldn’t be able to tell you. And I can promise you that. Simple things that every father should know about his daughter and he doesn’t know. Sure, he might still know 7 year old me, but that was 17 years ago and I don’t like Westlife anymore and my favourite colour isn’t purple anymore because I learnt that it didn’t have to be my favourite just because it was my cousin’s favourite.
He broke my heart before any boy ever got the chance to. And that’s why my relationship with his side of the family is so messed up. I love them all with every bit of me, but every time I see them or speak to them it’s a constant reminder that he doesn’t care anymore, and that hurts more than any pain I have ever felt before in my entire life. So, like every person deals with any kind of pain that can be prevented, I avoid it. But my great aunt, well, she became really ill. And any normal person would want to be there for her in any way that they can and stick around just in case, right? Not me. I continued to prevent myself from the pain of remembering. And it cost me my final moments with her. It cost me the time that I could’ve spent with her before she began to forget everyone around her. It cost me my final chance to say goodbye. And I hate myself for that. I hate myself for not being strong enough to be there for her and I hate myself for not being brave enough to let her know that I loved her and I always will. I just hope that wherever she is now? She can forgive me. Because I can’t forgive myself.
I will never not hate Shimura Danzō. Jus’sayin’
regret
He that cannot forgive others, breaks the bridge over which he himself must pass...
-George Herbert
Messy hair is life
He who cannot forgive breaks the bridge over which he himself must pass.
George Herbert