thank you, or rather your x-chromosome-carrying-sperm, for swimming into my mother's fallopian tube; and fertilizing the ovum before the 3 million remaining had the chance fifteen-or-so, years ago. oh yes. i now get to live through this hellhole you've created for me. thanks, i appreciate it.

anyways. you suck, big time. talking shit about your own sister. tsk, tsk. she and her husband raised me for ten fucking years, and they did a pretty damn good job, if i do say so myself. you should be grateful. you also ought to stop these little arguments you start on the phone. always money-related, pointless, and unreasonable. this family's already dysfunctional. no need to make it any worse, you selfish mother fucker, you. i'm here now, what more do you want?

whatever. i want a divorce. heh. don't worry, i'm just saying that. although i do kinda mean it. HOWEVER, i keep that psychological question of kindergarten teachers in mind, "how would you feel?". and well, if my future child wanted a divorce from me, i'd feel awful - as if i failed at being a mother. therefore, i choose not to say anything. you don't want to hear what i have to say anyways. it'd get you mad. and make you start throwing things. well maybe i should try to piss you off. if i get lucky, you might throw something at my head, and while i lie on the floor, unconscious, you finally realize what an ass you're being. but darn, i'm not lucky. i know you'd never hurt me - physically, at least. you've already killed my soul. hah .. hahahahha. no that's too dramatic. um, well you've sunken my happiness. it's now at the bottom of my broken heart. HAHAHA. i joke, i joke. but dude, wake up and slap yourself. that's all.

LOVE,
your darling daughter, April


P.S. you need anger management.

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