I hate you. Not for anything that you've done, but for all the things that you will do. All the promises you will not keep. All the lies you'll tell. All the heartache you will cause. Today, you bow your head while holding her hand and you vow to be there for her and for your son. You even ask God to help you be a good father. But you won't be. You can't be. You haven't had enough life yourself and the life you have had has been fatherless. There is nothing for you to work from. And so -- when things get hard -- you'll act the only way you know how. Even you won't like the things you do. You'll tell her you're sorry and that you don't know why you do those things and you'll mean it. In spite of your best intentions, though, nothing will change. Not for a very long time.
And for that, I hate you.
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