Growing to Hate
Words cannot even explain how much I miss my childhood. Honestly my life was a much times better. I miss having my entire family be together, and my cousins from Canada used to be able to come all the time. No one had to worry about work and the realities of the world. The only thing that mattered was seeing your family,and enjoying life in the moment. I was always at peace when my family was here. Of course we occasionally fought, but I would do anything to have those childish fights again. I miss it all. I miss being my parents' entire world. The only thing that mattered to them was me. If I was okay,If I was healthy, and if I was just genuinely happy. I remember whenever my dad used to come home, I would I get so excited. When I heard the garage open I knew he was here. It was my favorite part of the day. When I was younger, my mom would take my best friend, my siblings, and I to McDonalds, the one with the play place. It was so fun,Friday was my favorite day of the week. It was so childish and stupid. It was such a little thing, but loved it. My parents loved me so much. They loved hearing about what I learned in school. They loved talking to me. I really wish it was like that now. I could swear on my life that I have never heard my dad yell at anyone or anything until I was sixteen. When I was younger, I had never heard my mom tell me that she hated me. For so long I told myself that you are supposed to love your parents, because that is right. What kid doesn't love their parents ? And I am the sort of person that does not hate anyone and when I mean anyone, I mean anyone. It takes a long time for me to even think about hate, but that is all I can feel. Hate. And that is the truth. I hate my parents.