This is ridiculous, fucking ridiculous I tell you. When that bitch uses my things no one fucking cares. When it's her, kimak macam khiamat sia. You call yourselves my family, the one group of people that I'm suppose to trust, to lean. Fucking far off from what it's supposed to be.

Fine, I admit I made a mistake. I drank when I'm not supposed to, I dint tell you, but comeone. We make mistakes, I was high. I couldn't think straight, instead of making sure I was home you pick a fight with me. It's just like you to think about your fucking anger rather than what's going on around you. You expect me to understand you, but ask yourself do you understand me? You're not even the least abit understanding, or try to understand.

You promised me that you will try to understand me more, try put yourself in my shoes. Have you forgotten what you told me when you met me at Somerset after work? Guess you did. The saddest part about our relationship is that I can't stand being mad at you for even a day but you can, you can.