Notes:

For most of my life, he has physically, mentally, and emotionally abused me. He has driven me to the point of attempting suicide no less than five times. It’s only because of the thought of disappointing others that I stopped.

I can hardly remember any good times we had together as kids. We talk cordially on the phone. He sends me little presents every now and then. Whenever he comes home for a visit (he’s currently overseas), he treats me well – for a day or two – and then I might as well be a piece of dog s--- that he stepped on.

He knows how I feel about him, as does the rest of my family – all of whom tell me to just “grow the f--- up, because goddamn it, you’re 24 now and should be over this s---.”

If only it were that easy.