And my father...he's...well he's an arsehole. He used me and hit me and left me alone. I never loved him. How could I?
And now there's Peter. I wish he were my father. I love him. I adore him. I want to ring him every day just to tell him what I've done like normal people do at the dinner table. I want him to hold me when I am sad and kiss my skinned knees to make them all better. And it's ridiculous. I'm 17 years old and I've been taking care of myself since I was 11. And even partially since I was 5!
Maybe therein lies the problem. I never had anyone to turn to, and now I do and I find myself doing it constantly. I am so insanely jealous of Avery and Jack and Jake and James and Lydia and Bess and Annabelle and Anna. He's there with them now. They get to see him at night and he can give them advice and smile at them and help them. If they want him to, of course. And here I am in London, wishing he were here. Wishing he were mine. He wondered why I'd gone to see him so much lately. It wasn't because I had problems I couldn't solve, as much as just wanting the feeling of going to someone with them. Being able to confide in someone. Rely on someone. An adult someone.
I just want parents. Normal ones that aren't crazy.
I just want a daddy. He's the closest thing I'll ever get to one and he's leaving. And I really wish I could say that I didn't feel like packing it all up and going with him. It would be a lie. I am this close to doing it. My boys are there, Claire is there, and he is there. But it's stupid and silly. I never needed it before, why should I need it now?
At least he'll be proud of me when I tell him I didn't go to Download. There's a chance I would end up sucking the souls of all the people there. I was strong and realised it. He'll be proud of me and he'll tell me that and he'll smile and then I'll smile too.