Today I told my mom about how rude people are to me in school. And she told my dad and they had this huge thing where they were trying to comfort me and it was terrible because it was so sad.
My dad just brought me over to his window and talked about how the rain was coming and we were looking out into my backyard and all I could think about was how innocent I used to be. I just imagined my old swing set there, with me giggling and laughing and being carefree. I just wanted to cry. I just kept thinking: he doesn't know how much his little girl is hurting.
Because they don't. Because they can't. Because at the end of the day they don't want me to be in pain and so I can't be. But my heart hurts and it's starting to rain now and all I can think about is how angry my dad would be if he knew why I was so sad. He would ruin certain people's lives and tear them limb from limb.
He told me tonight, "When you hurt, I hurt."
Oh, God, I know that feeling.
I feel the same.
I'm sick of hurting.
I wish I could go back and save that little girl.
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