I don't know exactly why I'm writing it here. I guess its because my family is too unforgiving to understand, and none of my friends are really around right now... So I figure I'll just write about it here. I don't really expect any responses, I guess for now its just a place holder for all my thoughts and emotions right now.

Ever since I was born my father was a drug addict, and throughout the years it grew worse and worse. My parents divorced because he couldn't give up his addiction for his family, and because my mom was moving to a different state my father won custody of me. I went on deals with him, I remember parties and fights in my house every weekend. I remember the room I wasn't allowed in. I would go in my dad's room and smash all of his bongs trying to send him the message that I hated it. But it never got through to him. He was still my dad, I still loved him very much, and I didn't want to hurt him at all.
Still, my father was thrown in jail numerous times and I got to go live with my mom. I would ask him to quit, all the time- but the money was too good, it was the only thing that was there for him. He'd make me feel guilty for asking him to stop. But, he was still my father, I still loved him and I didn't wan't to hurt him at all. Then there was a night I was woken up at 11:00 when I was 15, my dad was on the phone telling me he was going to be in prison for 10 years or more. But there was hope- he was going to go to a year long rehab center, my dad's case was so bad he had to stay there another 6 months.
So, I went and visited my dad every so often, he was calling whenenver he could, he had really changed. He was sorry for everything that he had done to me and my mother, to the rest of his family, he finally wanted to stop. This wasn't the first time this has happened, I doubted it, but I wanted to believe him. I told him this was the last time I could forgive him, I couldn't take the pain and the dissappointment anymore. I made him promise me he would never go back to drugs, if he ever felt the need to come to me instead, and I would help him get through it. He promised.

He got out, everything seemed fine. But the calls kept getting shorter and shorter, to the point where the only time we talked was when I called him. My father was also getting skinnier, looking older. And I would keep asking him just to tell me the truth, I needed to know. But he assured me that he wasn't doing them, that I needed to stop worrying.
Well, it turns out my father was lying to me the whole time. He was recently thrown in prision for creating meth inside my grandparents house. My grandparents have been evicted from their home, have to waste their retirment fund on repairs for the house, and no one will tell me anything beyond that because they are so pissed at my dad and in turn me.
My father wrote me a letter. Telling me he broke his promise "but now its restarted". I've come to the point where I want to be selfish, you can't restart a fucking promise, thats what makes it a promise. I already told him it was the last time he could make me that promise, I told him he could come to me before he wanted to start. Hell- even if he was doing drugs again he could have said Tess I need help, and I would have been there. But no, he looked me straight in the eye and lied to me every single time. He made me look like an idiot while I defended him from my whole family, he once again chose drugs instead of his own fucking daughter. I've had it....


In a couple of weeks I'm planning on driving up to minnesota to visit him. And honestly, I just don't know what to say... After all, he's still my father, and I still love him very much, and I don't want to hurt him at all.