I told FaceBook that I was excited that my dad was coming home.

I lied.

I’m not excited. I have such severe, deep problems with my father that it’s unbelievable.

I don’t even know whose fault it is anymore that things are the way they are.

Whenever my dad comes home it’s the same fucking thing time after time.

He comes home, him and my mom fight about money, or something else. He camps out in the garage, and I camp out in my room. I hate being around him anymore. He doesn’t acknowledge me when I talk to him, he promises we’ll do something and every fucking time I tell myself not to get my hopes up but I do anyway, and it doesn’t happen. I feel so not important in my father’s life. I feel like he chooses drinking, or being with his friends over me.

Now me saying that my dad chooses drinking over me makes him sound like an alcoholic. He’s not. But I can tell you that I’m tired of hugging him goodnight sometimes and smelling alcohol. Which I’m seriously making my dad sound worse than he is. I know he tries his best but it’s the empty promises that really kill me. If he doesn’t think that he can follow through with promises just don’t make them. 

I can’t depend on my father.