This isn't something I normally put in here. An acual baring of my soul. I don't even know if this a baring a soul but it's pretty deep. I thought of all this crap last night and now I want it off my chest. I supose I should write this somewhere more privet. I resent bought a book for just that. I wanted to try this thing my creative writing teacher told me. That a writer should just write for about a half an hour a day. 15 minutes in the morn when you just woke up and 15 minutes in the evening. It's to clear your mind. I haven't started yet(I'm adited to Gaia and finally getting my fix, check out my poem if you want to really see about it) but I plan too when I go visit my dad soon.
I really should get to talk about what I created this entry for. He's leaving. My stepdad. Now this isn't a sad event. I don't like him. Not anymore. I remember when I use to like him, funny thing is I only liked him drunk but my mom loved him. Still dose, but not in the same way. I loved my mom, so I would like him. I was in the fifth grade and he was my mom's first boyfriend since my dad. They broke up before I was born and as you can tell from above he's sitll part of my life. But he's not, my stepdad. It dosen't matter if he lives here, he's not really part of it. He's just like this thing at home that I tend to ignore.
I accually remember the day we stoped being friends, the day I lost all trust and like for this man. Well it's a kind of day people don't forget. I just got home, when I get home I have to go to the bathroom bad and so when I come home I rush in, leave the door open and go to the near by bathroom. When I'm done I always go and close the door again, unless it's a nice day out and the door open would be a good idea. Now it was wintery and my stepdad normally yelled at me to close the door when I came home. Which I would do, but I really had to go.
Well this day he must of been mad becuase he hadn't had work in a week or something (he's a mover, he's the guy that takes your boxes from your old home, put it in the truck and then put it in your new house). Well I'm in that bathroom and he starts YELLING at the door.
"CLOSE THE DAMN DOOR. WHY DON'T YOU EVER CLOSE THE DAMN DOOR" Needless to say it scared me and anoyed me.
More I'm a good girl, or so I like to think, and the one thing I hate more then anything is to be yelled at. My teachers would accually tell my mom I was perfect because I would never do anything wrong. I came home in tears more then once because of being yelled at (when I was younger). I hate it more then anything, expeclly when I did nothing wrong.
So when I was done doing my buissness I ran out and closed then door. Then escaped to the safety of my room, I wish. Aparently a bill collecter or a sales lady or something left a message for my mom. Dose he call my mom and tell her about it? No he YELLS at me to do it. The information was up stairs but I didn't want to go up there, he was up there. So i called my mom, told her what happened and didn't give her the info. That would be enough for one night.
Expect my mom called him, I never blamed her for this, seeking that info I told her about. He didn't give it to, dispite the fact that it was not two feet from him. Instead when he was done talking to my mother he screams at me to do it. Lets just say when I called her back I was shaky with tears. I ended up crying, I admit I was most likly over reacting but he still didn't need to yell. That was the day I stoped likeing him. I knew that after that we would never be friends again.
 Flamefire123 · Thu Jun 23, 2005 @ 07:11pm · 1 Comments |
