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I'm beyond sick and tired of feeling like I'm being tied down or told what to do. Obviously, cut the military from my job options because all that is, is orders on top of orders. Which drives me insane.
I'm his marionette puppet, attached to his strings, and pulled by his strings. Ordered around left and right, told to do this, told to do that.
I wonder when he'll wake up and realize that I'm human too, that I have feelings and a beating, yet breaking heart as well. That I have wants and needs, just like everyone else. He doesn't see that. He doesn't know that I'm a living, breathing creature like him; he believes that I am his puppet, dancing around here and there and all over at his every command.
I wonder when I'll stand up for myself and cut those damn strings. I wonder when I'm going to open my mouth like Melinda Sordino and say, "No". But currently, my mouth has been sewn shut, not allowing me to open it.
I wonder if today is that day: The day I tell him to shut up and listen to me. I believe today is the day that I don't take his crap anymore. Today I take out the stitching holding my lips sealed together, the day I grab the scissors and cut the strings and fall to the ground. I don't even care if no one's catching me today. Because today I am invincible. Untouchable. It's pretty unbelievable.
Today I don't care if I upset him. I'm running the show, because I'm no longer Pinocchio. I'm just me now. Able to roam free and do as I please. Why should I have to ask for permission? I don't need approval to wear those jeans. He is most definitely not the father that I lack.
Now it's just a matter of how to tell him. "Sorry. I just don't like the way you do things." or "Hey dude, sorry about all this... but uhh... I'm not your puppet, nor your stepping stone."
Today I am breaking free. I'm breaking down these barriers we all like to call walls. Freedom is a beautiful thing. Why, hello there Freedom. How are you today? Because I'm simply WONDERFUL.
At least, until reality sets in, and my conscience gets the better of me. Would he really do it? I know he says it all the time... but still... would he? I mean, he's what most people would call a *bad word*, and to be honest, I don't know if he would or not. Which is probably what I'm afraid of. It would be all my fault if he did it. MY fault. And I can't seem to scrape that from my mind. I'm just a kid.
He will text and text and text my phone. He will call and leave messages, crying. Terrified. But not accepting to take the blame. I know him, he won't. I have to be the one to take the blame.
And my "Good Samaritan" side will show and let him back. I'm such a freaking pushover.
We're chasing circles is what we're doing. Nothing good ever comes out of this endless cycle.