What is this...I don't even....yeah.

Why I’m not sorry

This is going to be a longer post so if you dont want to see it press j to reach the bottom.

Today my dad and my younger brother asked if id come to a picture for the grandkids. I didn’t go because i have not talked to my dad since the divorce   two years ago. After work this morning i went home to sleep my mom wakes me up about 2 hours later to ask if my dad has sent me anything threatening, because he sent her multiple texts saying she was a worthless cunt for not making me go. apparently if i were to have gone the picture was not of the grandkids it was to be with him and his girlfriend and my brother. Needless to say i didnt go.

I didn’t go because how long is it going to take for me to start getting those texts. And I’m not sorry for staying home because i want to be happy. All my  life my happiness has been sacrificed for him. As a kid i was always worried about money. My dad would say we always can’t do things because we dont make enough and the world has screwed us over. So in order to make him happy i quit doing the things I loved. I quit dance because i could see the bills at how much dance cost so at the end of sixth grade i said i wanted to stop dance just because i don’t like it anymore. I thought that would make him stop saying that we didn’t have any money anymore, but it didn’t.

Then i noticed that my brother went through his lunch money fast. So in middle school I started not to eat at lunch. I figured i’m a bigger girl i dont need to eat anyway. So id get a juice and that’d be my lunch most days. My friends noticed i wouldn’t eat so id say im not hungry and id eat one lunch there a week. they bought it because school foods disgusting and well i did say i wasn’t hungry. I started eating again at lunch in high school cause a slice of pizza was cheep.

I also gave up show choir and a few other little things in order to try and save money and make him happy. My mom divorced my dad near the end of my sophomore year. Since then i haven’t talked to him. My moms side of the family has been so good to me. they got me a car when he was holding mine as blackmail. They support me and want me to be happy. They are thrilled that I’m going to college to do something that i love. They make sure i have what i need and i am so grateful to have them. My great aunt some times tries to get me to talk to them because she thinks she can empathize with him. She get frustrated when i tell her no that i don’t want to talk to him because I’ve realized something.

Money isn’t the key to happiness. I should not have to give up things i love or things i need because of him. My mom and I may not have a lot of money but we are happy. 

Today I have cried twice. One, because of him and what i gave up as a kid. Two, because I have an amazing family that not only helps me but my friends as well. I have cried more today then i have in the last couple years.

So this is why I’m not sorry. This is why i’m done. This is why even though i thought I’ve moved on i know i haven’t really moved on till this is posted. i don’t care if only one person reads this, that’s not the point of this. The point of this is to say I’m not sorry for moving on with my life happy.

I’m not sorry for moving on without you.

I’m only sorry it took this long.


“It’s Been An Adventure, Mr. Fredricksen.”

“Adventure Is Out There!”

Someone asked me to post these two companion pieces together so it was easier to reblog them.

(via hoork)








People who write “<3” on a paper instead of just drawing a heart


That is not an emotion. That is a sloth.

It’s a sloth who is expressing an emotion and in its heart burns the flame of a revolution that you will never extinguish

can you hear the mammals sing

singing the song of angry sloths



do I have permission to passionately kiss you because you deserve it

(Source: autisticalfred, via levicrackerman)


“Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, ‘I will try again tomorrow.’”
—Mary Anne Radmacher


“Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, ‘I will try again tomorrow.’”

—Mary Anne Radmacher

(via tragedysorbet)