I have no balls

I want to tell my father that he means NOTHING to me. I want to tell my Dad that he is an asshole and no one likes him and people laugh at him behind his back. I want to tell him that he's never had a positive impact on my life. I would like for him to know that he has caused more harm than good to all of his children. I'd like him to realize that he's failed at the role of father. I wish I had the guts to tell him that he's a selfish, inconsiderate, opinionated, mean, disrespectful, shallow, pig headed, stingy, sorry excuse for a dad.

I guess I'll never be that strong to tell him these things. He'll never figure out how to look at this blog either. So, he will die - or maybe I will die first - without him ever knowing how hurt he has made me.

All I wanted was for him to be like my Uncle Bill, or my Uncle Donald or any one of those million other Dads who looked beyond the imperfections of their children and embraced and loved them anyway. Like I do with my kids.

If I die before my biological father and he has not made an effort to reach out to me, please do NOT let him come to my memorial service. His presence will not be welcomed there. I want a party. I want people to laugh about the silly things I did in my life, and how I made the little "oopseys" that are uniquely me. He would be spilling out lies if he spoke of my name with any love or kindness.

I hate him way too much right now