Do you really love me?

It's a summary of a life story. If it's true... You'll never know...

My life has been a struggle. Yeah, it sounds cliché, but it’s the truth. I was a good girl gone bad. The one thing I could never figure out was, who to love and who really loved me. You always grow up with the feeling and reassurance that your parents love you more than anything, maybe even more than life itself(so they say). That’s what i was told, right Daddy? Momma? That’s what you said wasn’t it? I get it. Lies can get you what you want, can’t they? Trust me, I have learned so much from the best to know all about where lies can get you. I started out with a pretty good life. The usual kid stuff like: writing your name, numbers, words, etc. But when I hit five years old, it all changed.


You love to think that everything that was wrong in my life was caused by my mom, and some of it was, but not all. Remember that girlfriend of yours...Aqueelah! Yeah, that’s the one. While you were with her and off having your fun, her kids were teaching me about stealing and pornography. Yeah..didn’t know that, did you? I used be afraid to steal, but Mekayla taught me how to gain confidence in doing it. Not a good thing, but doing it made me feel rebellious and bad, it was different. Going over to my moms house was a relief. In the beginning she was as good a parent as you. She kept an eye on us(barely), fed us, occupied our attention, the usual. The difference between her ‘then’ with you, period, is that she actually spent time with us on a daily basis. She changed when I was around the age of ten.


On the other hand, when i was at the age of five, with you there were things going on right under your nose. You never noticed and you know why. Aqueelah’s kids were doing things to my brain, my self esteem. Mekayla and Antonio were always putting their hands on me and breaking my things. You thought it was me. Even when I told you, you never believed me. So when you jacked up Antonio when he was messing with me, it surprised me. George was raping/molesting me and it was right under your nose. You never knew and you still didn’t know until just recently. You let it happen to me, why? You were never there for me. I needed you, you never showed. They hurt me and you ignored it. You put dents in my body with your hands and belt for anything wrong that i did, but when they hurt me, you did nothing to help me. What did i do to deserve it. That was my turning point. Why should I care what i do when you don’t. Why should i care about the consequences when you didn’t do anything for me. Maybe you should’ve killed me all those times you threatened because in reality i’m already dead inside and out. The only reason I live is for the only people i trust( my sister and best friend).



I go through each day trying to get past those moments, but there’s so many triggers. Those times when you think i’m sleep, i’m not. I cry myself to sleep every night under my covers. I try my hardest to release my anger, my depression, my anxiety. Nothing works. When you yell at me, you make everything I already think about myself worse.I hate myself. I can’t be what you want me to be, i can’t do what you want me to. It’s never right, it’s never perfect. I try to please you and I can’t even please myself. No pity needed, as i never got any when it was needed. It’s not worth the fight. All those times when I talk about suicide, i meant it. I’m not scared of suicide, just what would happen if i failed. When you’re mad you, threaten to help me carry out my death sentence. I wanna say yes but i don’t want to give you the power that i wanna take away from everyone. You know, it’s funny how you make me feel like crap and don’t even notice it.When you talk about me sleeping a lot, i just wanna tell you: “You don’t get it, okay… It’s not exactly easy to explain but i’m not trying to be lazy, it’s just that im freaking tired and i have no motivation to succeed and i don’t even know why this life is happening to me.” And i know, “ Don’t blame others, you did this to yourself, everything is your fault.”

What’s funny is how you don’t understand how emotionally messed up my head is. Sometimes when I tell you that “i’m fine” and “it’s nothing,” i want you to look me in my eyes and say “tell me the truth” without the attitude. I want compassion, understanding, and patience. None of which, do you have.


I have a question, be honest:
Do you really love me?