where’d you go?

i blocked you from my phone, but just my phone. not my facebook, or email, or instagram, or anything. just. my. phone. you could email me, or dm me on instagram, you could message me on facebook. you could call me from your wife’s phone, or one of your three daughters phones… you could have told me you moved away. you could have told me about your new cat. you could’ve called on my birthday or christmas when the boys were here. you could’ve called their phone to talk to me. you could call me from mom or allen’s phone. you could’ve at least tried. why didn’t you try? why didnt you send me a birthday card? why didn’t you call me on my birthday? you don’t even know my braces are off. you don’t even know who joe is or that blue and i are back together. i blocked you at my lowest point, a point of brokeness, which is when i needed you. no. i needed you in 8th grade and you knew that, only after it was too late. after everything had happened. how did you not blame yourself? how did you not care to call your own daughter? you’ve never flown out to see me in the past 5 years i’ve been off that island. you could do so so much more, yet you don’t. you don’t try because you don’t want to try. you don’t want me. you don’t want me as a daughter. what did i do wrong? why doesn’t my own father want anything to do with me? why dad? you won’t be there to see me go off to prom, or graduate, or see me go to college, or graduate from college. you will not be the man to walk me down the isle when i get married, you won’t even be invited. you did this to us. you did this to me. you made me into a girl with “daddy issues”. you made my trust issues and bad relationships with guys and myself and loving myself. you’re the parts of me i hate about myself. i should hate you with every part of me, but all i want you to do is hug me. if i think about it hard enough i can still remember the way you smell. do you think about your own daughter as much as she thinks of you? no, i didn’t think so. just tell me why. why don’t you care about me?

i don’t want to ever see you again, or hear your voice. you want nothing to do with me anymore, Devin… so i want nothing to do with you. 

(via late-nights-and-daydreams)

My dad left when I was 6…… HAHAHAHAHA

Warsan Shire (via mindoflayla)

John Keats (via lostloveisstilllove)

(via zealousxo)

Michael Foucault (via leohearts)

why though? (via written-on-polaroids)

alright. so out of the 4 years since i’ve moved away, not once have tou ever come out to visit me. not for graduation, or a birthday, or a holiday. you’ve never asked me to fly out. you don’t even both to send me a card on my birthday and i sure as he’ll know i won’t get one tomorrow. you’re a piece of shit and i don’t want anything to do with you, i really don’t and i mean it this time. the fact that you asked me to move out of my room this summer to make room for her, killed me. that killed me and you know it. it hurt you too just to say it to me but you did it anyway. she’s your priority now. you hurt me and you know it but you don’t understand why. you think i’m just being an over dramatic angry teenager, but you’re just avoiding the fact that you’re shit. you are shit you absolutely a piece of shit. you’re taking them to fucking europe when you “don’t have any money” for college or birthday or christmas. does it not bug you that when i talk about my life that you’re not in it at all. does it not hurt you because it hurts me a whole lot. you’re taking them, your new family, your secret, your new daughters to europe when you couldn’t even bother to fly out to texas because flying to texas would just be so much more money than europe. where were you when i needed a father to help me learn how to drive a car or protect me from strange boys? why can you protect them but not me? how come you don’t want me dad? i don’t know what i did but i must’ve done something for you to not want anything to do with me. but that’s alright because i learned how to do a lot of this without you. i got through middle and elementary without you. i learned how to read and multiply without you. i learn how handle with shitty people and how to stay away from people like you. i learned that love isint real. i learned how to play guitar and drive and get a job and play bass and ukulele and cook and be a good big sister without you. and i’m gonna do lots more without you too. i’m gonna get through high school without you and i’m gonna get married without you and i’m gonna go to prom and i’m gonna have kids and be a better parent then you’d ever be. you taught me a lot things, they may be shitty things but i learned. but the one thing you’ll never teach me is how to love my future kids i’ll have. i’ll be a better parent then you can ever imagine. i’ll have a good husband and he’ll be a better man than you’ll ever be. but i want you to be there when i go through these things and all the things i have gone through, but you just weren’t. how come you don’t want me?