CHAPTER Thirty-Two
F*ck it.
F*ck it all.
F*ck feeling like this. F*ck trying to find a reason for this pain.
F*ck f*cking, sick-f*ck fathers. F*ck them to the nth degree.
F*ck the scars they created. F*ck the pieces of a person they left behind.
F*ck the tiny glimpse of happiness only to have it snatched away. F*ck wanting someone so bad that you continuously put yourself out there, knowing that you’ll be demolished in the blink of a gorgeous, green eye.
F*ck it all.
F*ck me. F*ck her. F*ck this.
F*ck it.