father.

i sit in his office and look around. looks kinda the same. same 4th grade picture of me, no, 5th. and then one from like 2 years ago with me and him. then..theres like a gazillion pictures of tommy. and the kids. and jaxson and lincoln and aidan. and then theres tommys degrees and helicopter stuff and all that good stuff. and i hear my dad talking on the way home. and the stuff that comes out of his mouth..i just think..what a complete ass. hes a jerk. he doesnt care about anyone but fucking tommy and the fucking kids. im pretty sure he loves me because hes fucking supposed to. and i love them all. to death. the kids are like my own i love them so much and i love tommy soooo much. its just. ugh. dad. and i dont need to see you fucking parading around in your tshirt and fucking poker boxers that are way too tight. im a girl. a fucking teenage girl. a fucking teenage girl who is your daughter for gods sake. i know i dont always act like a teenager, and you mock me because i want to be independent. and you say that as long as my job doesnt bring my grades down because thats the most important thing ever. and you say youll buy me a car and shit. but i want to buy my own fucking car with my own money. i dont need daddy to buy me everything, hence, independence. i want a job. i want crew. i want to do well in school. but know, that doing all these things, i probably wont do as well in school as i would if i didnt have a job or do crew. but good grades arent the only thing that look good on a college application bud. idk. you just annoy me. and the way you talk about your wifes friends, like you know what is goddamn best for fucking everyone, well you dont. and you certainly dont know whats best for me. and no im not gonna fucking bug you about getting more piercings or the jeep while im fucking down here. trust me. you think you know me. you think you know what goes on in my life. you have no fucking clue. yes i know you love me. and yes, you show it through money, and ill admit i do love that credit card, but money isnt everything. mom is the exact opposite. i dont know how your wife now can stand you. you were SUCH a jackass on the car ride home from the restaurant. youre just so like ignorant and hold your head up high blah blah blah. save it. mom says she tells you about my school work and about my ap essays because 'youre my father, you deserve to know, if you lived with us you would know'. yeah. but guess what. you dont live with us. you dont wake up every morning and see me leave for school. you dont see my regattas. you dont see my up late at night working on projects. youre not mom. you dont stay up late and help me type essays. or proof them. you dont do anything a normal dad living at home does, so no, i dont think you always deserve to know when i mess up or how i do in school or whatever. yes. you send a $900 check every month in the mail to mom. i see it. they used to come with notes addressed to me. i guess that was when i was young. not anymore. i understand im your daughter. im not tommy. im not a boy. we dont have that 'father son connection'. but honestly i dont think you really care or wanted one with me. i was the 'second child'. you kinda had to have one with mom since ya had one with youre first wife, even the score. both marriages ended in divorce. woohoo. now, third wife. no kids with her. happily married i guess. idk how happy you guys really are since youre workaholics. i dont know if you know what happiness even means. but yeah. im pretty sure the whole kids thing is what fucked up the first two marriages. oh well. whatever. third times a charm i guess. and my stepmom is great. sometimes in a bad mood when you piss her off, but then again so am i and i just hide it. i see you play with jaxson and lincoln and stuff and how silly and fun you are with them. and i wonder if you were that way with me. i dont remember. whatever. im getting off your laptop now and goin to bed. 10:15. big whoop. but i do thank you for letting me come down here. i love seeing tommy and erica and the kids. i do.