Its hard to be me. I am knowed to be a happy and warm person but I'm truly not and sometimes I can't stand people because they break your heart. It all started with my father. My father and my mother lived happily. We had the perfect home. I had my own bedroom and I would play Lego's in my room and put multi color ChapSticks on the walls (I dont know why) maybe because no matter what I see the brightness in dull things. My father because very obsessive when it came to my mother. He loved my mother too much. Whenever she was late coming home from work or they had a dissagrement he would take it too far. One day I was sitting on the floor playing with some Lego's and my mother was arguing with my father by the bathroom door. While I'm sitting across from them I see my father yelling at my mother while my mother was trying to protect herself. He pushed her in the bathroom and she cried a lot. My mother was broken ever since. I was broken ever since. More scenarios came like this and till this day I still think about it. I remember each time my father put his hands on me and my mother everyday and it brings tears to my eyes. Later on, They got a divorce and I had visits with my father. He blindingly had no clue why she left so each time I visit he always ask questions about her and always tell me about the marriage ever since I was 5 and it goes on. He always talks about my mother and I never have to courage to tell him to change the subject so I told my mother and she told authorities. He promised to not talk about her anymore and talk about positive things. After those last 2 years I haven't seen my father and he missed out on a lot in my life. So each time I see him he tries to apologize for my lifestyle but still blaims my mother. Those memories haunt me, times where he missed birthdays, never shows up, doesn't keep his promises, brags about how well he loves me but actions never show, leaves my graduations early, starts fights at my functions, or never come to my important places and blame it on my mother and say he never knew, or try to force religion on me. But once again I see the brightness in the dull things. My father history was bad. The streets was his love and slanging was his passion all he ever wanted was some money. But all he needed was love. My father never even meet his father. His life would be so much different if he had his father and discovered Jesus a long time ago. All he ever needed was some love. So who am I to not forgive like Jesus ?
