For: Dad

On May 4th, 2015...

At the moment, i'm not really mad at you. But i'm sitting here in my room and I guess I have drowned myself in my thoughts for the past 10 minutes. As I sit here, I think about a lot of things. I'm thinking about the times when you told me I was lying. Especially when you accused me of faking my bullying, and that I was only saying it for attention. I guess Morgan convinced you that it was all a lie. My thinking started when I turned on a song and began listening to Blink-182 not too long ago. I remembered the times you or Morgan judged my music taste. You don't do it very often, but it doesn't matter. What matters right now is that I've begun thinking about the times I've started a fight with you because you said something that offended me.

You talk about my friends a lot. I remember when you told me I should get better friends than the ones I already have. You made it sound like you hate my friends. Honestly, I don't care. What I care about is that you want me to be something I'm not. You want me to have the perfect friends, that get all A's, and live in some sort of fancy mansion. You agree with Morgan when she implies that I should listen to "better" music. I guess I don't blame you for the last one, since you seem to agree with Morgan about everything. Even when she's wrong.

So, I guess I have to apologize. I have to apologize about my best friend. I know you dislike her, and I know why. She's not perfect, and she doesn't get all A's. No, she doesn't live in a fancy mansion, or listen to whatever "better" music is. My other friends aren't perfect either. My closest friends dye their hair. I know you're not really excited that I enjoy dying my hair.

But even so, these people that I call my friends are not yours to choose for me. I have made these decision to hang around certain people because they have made an impact on me. An impact you might not understand.

Another thing, I know you enjoy some of my music. You have influenced some of my music I listen to, specifically the older music. But I know you don't seem to like Black Veil Brides, even though you pretend you do as some sort of joke. I know you like to think you know what Pierce The Veil means, and honestly, it's really annoying how you use the phrase in every sentence. No, Pierce The Veil has nothing to do with washing the dishes, or cleaning up after myself.

You like to talk a lot about things that don't make sense. One minute, I'll be talking about (for example) my favorite band, and the next you're wandered off somewhere talking about spiders. Also, when I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you, you like to talk about the most puzzling things. For another example, I have tried to talk to you about normal things before. I try to talk normally to you all the time. For some reason, you trail off conversation, trying to talk to me about unlocking the key to the universe or something.

I am an emotional person, you know this. The most random conversations and movies make me cry at any moment. So when you try to talk to me about something that doesn't make sense, it frustrates me. YOU frustrate me. I don't understand you half of the time, and when I do, the conversation doesn't even matter. You have made me cry a lot. Even when it's about something simple, like with a conversation that started about my phone. Of course, you trailed off with that topic, and decided to talk about the tree across the street instead. Yes dad, I notice it looks different from the other trees. Yes dad, it's probably dead.

I do love you, and hopefully you know this. I just wish you could see through my eyes, and through my point of view for once. Yes, my bullying was real. Mostly everything you heard about, or read in my journal, was true. I do dislike a lot of things about myself. I do think I am unattractive. I think these things because people have told me they are true. I have had many people tell me I am ugly, or fat, or anything else insulting. I believe these things because no one tells me they're not true.

The self harm was also true. My bullying has gone on for awhile now, and no one has seemed to notice. This is because I am generally a happy person. I am different when dealing with bullying. Most people would feel depressed, and mope around a lot. I am a person that, under no circumstances, can hold a grudge. I try to find the most positive thing about every situation, no matter what. When I am sad, I try to laugh. When I am mad, I try to make a joke instead. These things you probably already know about me. But just because I seem happy, does not mean I am truly happy on the inside. I haven't had anyone try to make me feel better in a long time. This is because when you found out about about my bullying, you called me a liar. Otherwise, I don't tell anyone about it.

I usually don't want people to know about it, and if they do, I don't want them to ask me about it. I like to keep things to myself when it comes to personal problems. I do dislike many things about myself. I feel like I am unattractive. I am positive that I am ugly. I try not to think these things about myself, I try to shut these thoughts out. But how can I? You never believed I though these things, and if you did, what would you do? You haven't told I am beautiful in a long time. No one has.

Maybe that's what I need. Maybe I need someone to call me beautiful. I just might need someone to tell me I am smart, or skinny. But no one does. I have scars on my body that will remind me of this. I won't cut anymore, I've learned from that. But that doesn't mean I can let go of when I did cut myself before. Did you care when you found out? Did you feel sympathy when you found out what others have done to me? Did you even pay attention?

If not... I have scars and memories that will forever haunt me. But I can learn to let go, maybe. I guess I can try to be more confident.

But I need someone to help me. I haven't been able to get anywhere alone.

Yes, I do need someone to tell me I'm beautiful. I need someone to reassure me that I have a pretty smile. It's simple things like this that make me feel better. It's simple things like this that no one has done. How will I ever know if it's true, if everyone tells me it's wrong?

Who am I, really?