I'm highly fustrated right now, pissed off, and depressed. And I don't know why. Actually I do. What Bettie said last night hit a little too close to home. I think last night was the first time since seventh grade that I cried myself to sleep. Now why was I crying? I hate the fact that I can't talk to my dad at all. I've tried and tried and tried and tried and tried. It doesn't fucking work. It's no coincidence that my brother lives with his mom instead of my dad. My dad is only someone to obey. Heh. I remember last year, when we were eating at this crawfish restaurant, I was talking to my dad about my brother and maybe he should talk to my brother like he's a friend instead of an adolescent teenager. "A dad is a dad. I dad can't be a friend," he said. I was merely trying to help. I found out from my mom a few days later, that my dad was mad at me because he thought that I was blaming him. That's no fucking surprise. He always thinks I blame him in my every words and my every actions. It's sad. My own dad throws on a mask in front of me. So, I gave up a long time ago. I was never able to talk to him. The only voice he wants to hear is his own. It's funny. My dad is the one person that I look up to, but he's the furthest away from me. There comes a time when no matter how hard you try, you just don't get what you want. Yes, I'm giving up so I really should stop griping about this, eh? I don't have the heart to try anymore. It hurts too much. With every failure, I lose a part of my heart and soul. I'm too broken to give anything anymore.

I've come to realize that I haven't grown. At all. I'm standing still in one place. And if not that, falling. I have no words to describe the extent of my sorrow. For there are no words for it, as there are no words for describing love. I'm just a lost little girl, living on a tiny thread on the brink of being cut. And that thread is Hope. Hope for a better tomorrow. But even the flame of Hope dwindles with time.

There are no more words.

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