Prologue
Sometimes, I miss you already. Sometimes, daddy, I cry for you. I cry because you're not going to love me, because you look right through me, because I'll never hear you speak to me again, because the look on your face in the pictures when I was born said I was the greatest thing- and now it's gone, because it was that easy for you to drop your only daughter. Because I've loved you my entire life, and I don't know how not to. And, Dad, sometimes, I can't wait to be completely rid of you, you racist, sexist, and most importantly homophobic douchebag. Sometimes, I'm just pissed off. I'm 18 and I can understand that things that are wrong actually hurt people. And you can't figure that out in 38 years?
Fuck you.
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