Dear Diary, so my relation with my dad the first 14-15 years of my life was depressing. i found myself longing for his company and affection often but he wasn’t interested in much aside from booze and women. my mom assured me often that he didn’t care for me or my brother and he reinforced this idea with his actions. i often had spans of time where i was extremely bitter towards him but eventually my feelings would lighten, until around age 16. we had gone halfway across the country to visit him and after years of telling me he was sober i come to find out he’s drinking again, and that’s when i lost all faith in him. i knew from then on i could not trust this man with my feelings so i have had no feelings for him since. ironically this is around the time he wanted to be involved in my life again.
all of this exposition to say this: i was thinking about how happy it makes me to know that some of my actions hurt his feelings. i like to think of how miserable he is when he realizes his kids want nothing to do with him. thinking of a huge dark cloud of regret following him around for the rest of his life plasters the biggest shit eating grin across my face. thinking of the empty father’s day card stuck to his fridge makes me laugh. thinking of him missing me gives me great satisfaction. this helped me realize how spiteful i truly am. i wouldn’t go out of my way to hurt a person, but if i can passively hurt someone who has caused me a huge amount of grief i’m more than happy to do so. i never knew spite could feel so good. even now i’m grinning ear to ear just thinking about it.