Oh..So Now Im Paid Some Attention? 2003-12-20 12:35 a.m.
I hate the 20th day of every month. I hate it with a burning passion. I have hated it since August. And I have hated December 20th every year since I was able to comprehend what was associated with it.
Before I go into why, I'll recollect some of yesterday's events. Around 1:30 p.m. my uncle called to tell me that my grandma (Dana) was sick and that she wanted to talk to me. It struck me as odd, made me a little sad, I'll admit. Most of all it made me angry. What could she possibly have to want to talk to me about after all the shit she's been pulling since I was 5? Since this summer even? I was told to be nice to her, and not to give her a hard time. I didn't. I thought she may've had something IMPORTANT to tell me when she called. Not only wasn't it important, it wasn't practical nor intelligent. She can't speak or breathe very well, yet, she doesn't call to check on me, to see how I'm doing. No, she calls to see if I've made appointments to get my hair and other things done for her wedding. She told me I could wear that GOD foresaken business suit to the wedding. That really sent me over the limit. Not only was she being a selfish bitch in my eyes, she wanted to make me look tacky in the process. Business suits are for...business. School affairs, job affairs, that sort of thing. You absolutely do NOT wear them to weddings. I told her this. She was like "Why did I buy it then?" Dur old woman, it was required for my TCAC bullshit, which I wholeheartedly regret now. She told me she'd buy me a dress then, and I refused it. I told her I'd get my own. I don't want her buying things for me because of anything dealing with Sam. Our conversation wasn't the nicest nor tenseless conversation I've ever had and it was ended shortly thereafter. That woman...no brain whatsoever. No morals, no common sense! She's selfish, unrelenting, annoying, and other things that I don't want to say.
Back to why I hate the twentieth day of every month and December 20 in particular. I've grown to hate the twentieth day of every month due to Michael. Yes, here's a big fuck you Michael. Though in reality it isn't. I wish I could find -you- again, the person you led me to believe you were. Not the cruel heartless bastard you've become. If I could meet you once more, if you came to my door tomorrow, I'd slap you as hard as I could, and cry out as I tried to make you hurt as much as I have. I wouldn't get on my knees and beg for you. I might've a couple of months back, but you know what? Fuck you. Actually no, I'm quite fine without that. I just hope you live in as much torment and angst and pain as I have! It would've been 8 months today. Do I pity the relationship for not lasing that long? Yes and no. I pity that YOU screwed it up from being as great as it could've been. I don't pity it, because at the rate things were going, only bad things would've followed if it had remained drawn out. Gah...What I wouldn't give to find a way to make you cry, to make you loathe your very self.
Also today, tonight, whatever, I'm crying. It finally hit me how horrid it is to have grown up without a dad. My dad, as of today, would've been 39. Now, every other year, his birthday as well as death date, have come and gone, with me thinking about it, but it's never really hit me as hard as it has tonight. Maybe I've stumbled upon maturity and realized how much I've missed out on? Or maybe it's just my hormones that have been raging like a horrid ocean this past week? I want to scream out to God or whomever that it's not fair. I want to go back and save my dad from that horrid death trap known as the "coal mines." I'm being selfish. I want to have pictures of my father with me beside him. I want him to see what I've done and be proud. I want him to lecture me for all the stupid things I've done. I want him to see me graduate. I want him to see me, if it ever happens, get married. I want him to see Tragic. I want to talk about movies and current events and games with him. Maybe he and I would've watched anime together. They told me my dad played some games what time he wasn't working, so maybe he and I might've had awesome convos about all the Final Fantasy games, including X-2. Most of all, I just want to know him. I can't though. I can't do any of that. And why? Because he lived in an area where coal mining was a quick monetary fix. Because he wanted and needed money to get into law school so he could provide more and better things for the yet unborn me and my mom. Because he believed that hard work could get you anywhere. People that knew him can tell me many things - that he played games, that he had a temper, that he was jealous, that he was a Republican, that he had a wonderful smile and a great sense of humor. Yet, I can't know any of that, even if they are facts, because I've not experienced it. I've not had even one second of time with my father. I'm jealous of people who do have that, which is the majority of the world. Maybe not actively jealous, or a bad kind of jealous, more like being in awe of them and wondering what it's like and how it feels, cause I can never experience such a thing. I always thought I was better off that I never had any memories of my father, but now I realize that I really was all the more worse off for it. I'm sure this'll pass after tomorrow. I'm sure it'll pass when I start bleeding, as I'm sure it's the hormones making me feel depressed over it. If not, then fine. I can accept it. I'm hoping that Bev will take me to his grave tomorrow. Maybe she'll take her pen cam too and I can take a picture of the gravestone, which has a picture of him on it.
So much for the Christmas cheer, huh?
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