♦ August 22, 2012

Myself, last summer. 

Myself, last summer. 

My new Marilyn Monroe lighter !!! 

My new Marilyn Monroe lighter !!! 

This is my cousin Magalie. She’s 16, will turn 17 in September. She lives in Texas so I don’t see her often but we always have fun when we’re together! & I love her so much ♥

This is my cousin Magalie. She’s 16, will turn 17 in September. She lives in Texas so I don’t see her often but we always have fun when we’re together! & I love her so much 

I’ve been gone for 12 hours and I already miss her </3 

I was born to be somebody, ain’t nothin that’s ever gonna stop me. I’ll light up the sky like lightning, I’m gonna rise above, show them what I’m made of.

#Me
This is the last photo that was taken of my father and I. I was thirteen at the time, which means it was eight years ago, almost nine since my birthday’s in september. Don’t look at me, I was horrid at the time! I don’t know why I post this, maybe because he sent me a text last week since FOREVER. Yesterday, I found something I wrote for him a few years ago on Father’s Day. Of course, I never gave it to him but it helped me to understand a lot of things. You’ll be able to read it in this post… The last time I saw him, it was a year ago and I saw him for like ten minutes. Oh and I called him for his birthday on January and after two minutes, he simply told me he had stuff to do. What my heart felt at the time, it’s indescribable. I always “knew” my dad doesn’t really give a fuck about me but that said it all. For my 21st birthday, last year, he texted me a ‘Happy Birthday’, nothing more. He didn’t even called me. Last week, he asked me when I was going to go see his new house he bought last summer with his crazy annoying ass of wife. I never felt this before but… I don’t want to go, I don’t feel like it. I don’t want to see him. You know why? Because I know it will break my heart for the 235736346474th time. 
So here’s the thing I wrote on Father’s Day a few years ago&#160;;

I think life’s pretty unfair for some people. I say that for other people in that case, not me. A good friend of mine lost her father when she was thirteen and my mother also lost her dad when she was eight. I would’ve love, of course, that those deaths never happened. Because those men loved them, were there for them. I would give EVERYTHING to give them back their father  because, well, I have the ‘chance’ to still have mine. The bad thing about this is that I realized that I’m not something that’s really important for him. Maybe he’s alive but it’s the same damn thing that if he was not so it’s unfair for those who their father would love them but some tragic thing happened and they can’t be there anymore.
Dad, today, it’s Father’s Day. But I don’t want to talk about it. Why? Because I never really had one. When I was a little girl, you made me promises but you never kept them. You told me things, thinking you were doing the good thing but that was totally the opposite, you destroyed me. I will always remember the time when you took Julian &amp; me on alternate week-ends. (BTW, Julian’s my little bro). Each time it was my turn, you always had a reason for not picking me up. I also remember how I was crying my eyes out and mom was comforting me. You never showed me how to heal or how to love or how to stay strong. You never held my hand when I needed it, you never fucking stood up like a man in front of hard situations. With time, I understood why mom left, you hurted us more than anything else and you’ve never been there to help her when she was alone with two toddlers. YOURS too. You can tell me you love me, I don’t believe it anymore because 3/4 of the stuff you tell me is bullshit. I’m your daughter and you never did anything for me. I waited for a long time for your actions to change, for you to act like a father but it’s been nineteen years and everything’s still the same. I cry, sometimes, and a part of me is destroyed because of you. What if you were different? If you were completely somebody else? A man who never left me behind. Like a father who holds me in his arms, sometimes, you know, I would’ve needed it. I didn’t always understand who you were. When I was young, you were, for me, the most important man in the world even though you weren’t there a lot. But the more I grow up, the more I realize that maybe I would’ve been better without you. Maybe not, too, it’s only a supposition. But I would like to know what’s the point of having a dad who makes promises without keeping them, who never gave a single penny for clothes or food, who never calls for news. You know, I surrender because I don’t see the point now. I tried to know you better but it was a mistake cause now there’s too much that I know. I don’t understand why I should keep living like you did nothing. Yes, that’s true though, you never did anything for Julian &amp; me. I can’t talk for him though so I won’t. I know you’re not the only thing that makes me sad but I know that most of them slowly began by the fact that you never cared about me. My childhood was destroyed by your “beautiful words”. Your attitude towards me is thoughtless and immature. And I know that even if I hope so, you’ll never change. I cried a million of tears for you but that was all wasted because I know that you’ll never become a real father, you never were. It’s too late now, anyway, you can’t change anything. You could have least try… Now, you don’t mean much to me and I need to know the truth… Did you ever love me?    
My Dad &amp; Me when I was three years old…

This is the last photo that was taken of my father and I. I was thirteen at the time, which means it was eight years ago, almost nine since my birthday’s in september. Don’t look at me, I was horrid at the time! I don’t know why I post this, maybe because he sent me a text last week since FOREVER. Yesterday, I found something I wrote for him a few years ago on Father’s Day. Of course, I never gave it to him but it helped me to understand a lot of things. You’ll be able to read it in this post… The last time I saw him, it was a year ago and I saw him for like ten minutes. Oh and I called him for his birthday on January and after two minutes, he simply told me he had stuff to do. What my heart felt at the time, it’s indescribable. I always “knew” my dad doesn’t really give a fuck about me but that said it all. For my 21st birthday, last year, he texted me a ‘Happy Birthday’, nothing more. He didn’t even called me. Last week, he asked me when I was going to go see his new house he bought last summer with his crazy annoying ass of wife. I never felt this before but… I don’t want to go, I don’t feel like it. I don’t want to see him. You know why? Because I know it will break my heart for the 235736346474th time. 

So here’s the thing I wrote on Father’s Day a few years ago ;

I think life’s pretty unfair for some people. I say that for other people in that case, not me. A good friend of mine lost her father when she was thirteen and my mother also lost her dad when she was eight. I would’ve love, of course, that those deaths never happened. Because those men loved them, were there for them. I would give EVERYTHING to give them back their father  because, well, I have the ‘chance’ to still have mine. The bad thing about this is that I realized that I’m not something that’s really important for him. Maybe he’s alive but it’s the same damn thing that if he was not so it’s unfair for those who their father would love them but some tragic thing happened and they can’t be there anymore.

Dad, today, it’s Father’s Day. But I don’t want to talk about it. Why? Because I never really had one. When I was a little girl, you made me promises but you never kept them. You told me things, thinking you were doing the good thing but that was totally the opposite, you destroyed me. I will always remember the time when you took Julian & me on alternate week-ends. (BTW, Julian’s my little bro). Each time it was my turn, you always had a reason for not picking me up. I also remember how I was crying my eyes out and mom was comforting me. You never showed me how to heal or how to love or how to stay strong. You never held my hand when I needed it, you never fucking stood up like a man in front of hard situations. With time, I understood why mom left, you hurted us more than anything else and you’ve never been there to help her when she was alone with two toddlers. YOURS too. You can tell me you love me, I don’t believe it anymore because 3/4 of the stuff you tell me is bullshit. I’m your daughter and you never did anything for me. I waited for a long time for your actions to change, for you to act like a father but it’s been nineteen years and everything’s still the same. I cry, sometimes, and a part of me is destroyed because of you. What if you were different? If you were completely somebody else? A man who never left me behind. Like a father who holds me in his arms, sometimes, you know, I would’ve needed it. I didn’t always understand who you were. When I was young, you were, for me, the most important man in the world even though you weren’t there a lot. But the more I grow up, the more I realize that maybe I would’ve been better without you. Maybe not, too, it’s only a supposition. But I would like to know what’s the point of having a dad who makes promises without keeping them, who never gave a single penny for clothes or food, who never calls for news. You know, I surrender because I don’t see the point now. I tried to know you better but it was a mistake cause now there’s too much that I know. I don’t understand why I should keep living like you did nothing. Yes, that’s true though, you never did anything for Julian & me. I can’t talk for him though so I won’t. I know you’re not the only thing that makes me sad but I know that most of them slowly began by the fact that you never cared about me. My childhood was destroyed by your “beautiful words”. Your attitude towards me is thoughtless and immature. And I know that even if I hope so, you’ll never change. I cried a million of tears for you but that was all wasted because I know that you’ll never become a real father, you never were. It’s too late now, anyway, you can’t change anything. You could have least try… Now, you don’t mean much to me and I need to know the truth… Did you ever love me?    

My Dad & Me when I was three years old…

#Me
#Me
At Joanie’s ‘Tim Burton’ Themed Birthday. She’s Emily from Corpse Bride. I’m Alice from Alice in Wonderland.

At Joanie’s ‘Tim Burton’ Themed Birthday. She’s Emily from Corpse Bride. I’m Alice from Alice in Wonderland.