What we have here is failure to communicate
So, I just sent my dad an email. I won't say that keeping my parents in the dark about... oh, everything, never bothered me; sometimes having to choose the lesser of two evils doesn't mean it wouldn't bother you. And you can't say I haven't tried. If you were hiding behind a rock and you throw out, say, helmets and shirts, and they all got shot to pieces, could you be blamed for not wanting to just step out? I haven't gone through this length for this long to hide from my parents because, oh, I fuckin' feel like it. Wouldn't you think if given a choice I'd rather just fuckin' tell them from the get go instead of having to fabricate facts and distort truths along the way? All the while knowing that they're anxious for me and really just wanted the best for me? I have a fuckin' conscience, y'know, unfashionable though it may be.
But I'm tired of explaining and tired to disclosing myself. Tired of stepping forward to you and opening up my vulnerabilities only so you can practice throwing darts at me. You keep saying that you want me to be honest and open, to talk to you. You keep saying that there will be no judgments. To that I say, I don't think that word means what you think it means. To that I say, that isn't the actual message you send me. What you did was tell me you don't understand, you don't care to try and understand, and if I keep attempting to relieve my conflicts by talking to you, instead of trying to be understanding and patient, instead of trying to help, you're going to brush me off by making premature, unfair judgments about my character and my motive.
To that I say, fuck you. Fuck. You.
But I'm tired of explaining and tired to disclosing myself. Tired of stepping forward to you and opening up my vulnerabilities only so you can practice throwing darts at me. You keep saying that you want me to be honest and open, to talk to you. You keep saying that there will be no judgments. To that I say, I don't think that word means what you think it means. To that I say, that isn't the actual message you send me. What you did was tell me you don't understand, you don't care to try and understand, and if I keep attempting to relieve my conflicts by talking to you, instead of trying to be understanding and patient, instead of trying to help, you're going to brush me off by making premature, unfair judgments about my character and my motive.
To that I say, fuck you. Fuck. You.