yellowducky's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Angst? Wednesday I cuddled some more with Mr. Yellow Scarf. He informed me I'm fun to flirt with. I just smiled. I really didn't need him to tell me something I already knew. It was fun though, and I'm starting to like him more. The longer we hang out, the less he tries so hard to impress me. Last Sunday I made a guy blush in church. It was very bad of me. Very bad indeed. I did it deliberatly. I do it often, in fact. I like to make the guys at church blush. Can I go to Hell for that? See, I like to play with their ties. Oh well. I've been mapping out the boundaries I want to set with my Dad. The biggest one is that I don't want him to touch me. That's if we are ever in close enough proximity to touch again. The second is that he is NEVER to yell at me again. For any reason. Nor is he ever to presume to ever again tell me how I fell about my nephews. I have been there for them since the day they were born. I sent my sister money for diapers and formula when she was a single parent and I was in college. I have been there for my nephews more than my father (aka Donor or Sperm Donor as my brother calls him) has ever been there for me. He has no right to presume to tell me about my relationship with them. He is never again to take credit for raising us. He is always to acknowledge the fact that he was never around--he bowed out of our lives and has just recently re-entered the picture. He is never again to touch my mother in any way, at any time, for any reason or I will castrate him. If I do decide that he is invited to my far-in-the-distant-future-wedding, he will sit quietly, not disturb anyone, not act like a pompous fool, and try to make himself useful. He will not cry and blubber and talk about how proud he is that his children turned out so well. And I want an apology. I want an apology for the fact that he knew my first step-father was abusing us, and he was more concerned about loosing his precious job than protecting his children. Prick. I haven't decided how often he is allowed to contact me. Right now, I don't want to talk to him, period. Can I do that? Say, "Don't call me until I say you can"? Is that alright? I just know that I never want him crying all over me again. It's gross. 2:49 p.m. - January 03, 2003 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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