(Source: smacksmash, via jennovonmars)
(Source: accioxjared, via magszczotka)
(Source: tkseven, via magszczotka)
(Source: psihfrommars221b, via magszczotka)
(Source: spumonis, via proudtobeanechelon)
Why, daddy, why?
I was in denial. There was no other way to put it. After I got myself together, I dragged my feet to the bathroom hoping that a cold shower would somehow wash my troubles away and make me forget that conversation. No matter how I may have sounded to her, the truth was that I was crushed.
I may have been able to start forgetting, or that may be what I’m telling myself, but this brought everything back again, and this time, I don’t think I have it in me to ignore him like I did in the past. I had to face the world, accept the truth and try to heal the pieces of my heart that my father had so gladly broken but there was only way to do this and that was by confronting him.
I just didn’t want to be the one to do it. But as it turned out, I didn’t have to be. Just as I got out of the shower, my telephone started ringing. I was already late for work and thinking that it may be Jordan, the front man, who was calling I trudged downstairs to answer debating on whether I should just tell him that I was about to call in sick. Nobody really knew about my past and the life I left behind because that was how I wanted it to be and I was in no mood to explain to everybody what had happened this morning.
Making my way across the hall to the phone where it was in the living room I flop down onto the sofa and start thinking of what excuse I should make up to have the day off. But that was totally unnecessary.
I didn’t need an excuse because it wasn’t Jordan who called, it wasn’t Simon either, the drummer of the band or Timothy the bassist. And it wasn’t one of the other editors or Eva, Jordan’s personal assistant.
No, it was my father.
The last one.
He loves us so much, it makes me cry sometimes.
(Source: thirty-seconds-to-hogwarts, via queen-of-the-echelon)
(Source: tooraretadie, via queen-of-the-echelon)
