i just endured 1 hour of sheer torture. figurative. emotional, mental, heartfelt torture. i went out to dinner with my dad. those who know me well, would know that 6 months ago dinner with my dad would be one of my favorite things to do. presently, it was one of the saddest things i have done in some time. noisy restaurant filled with drunken laughter and happiness. me and my father sit at an exaggeratedly small table. not one word was spoken the sixty minutes at the table. he ordered a beer. i wanted to cry. he was finding enjoyment out of a substance that ruined every single relationship in his life, rather than having a conversation with his daughter like he used to. i'm crying. it's silly to cry about it i guess. it was so much easier having all my anger directed at my mother, because somehow even after the awfully hurtful and damaging things i'd say to her she still loved me. still smiled. still acted alive. but ever since i made my emotions clear to my father, he has cut me off. cut everyone off with me.