[Aaroneet]

Honestly, for the first time, I have realized that my father has become a danger to me. Verbally, he has picked at me again and again. It makes me wonder if I am truly loved the way he says I am. He is the root of my insecurity; he is my seemingly boundless joy. And I don't know how to tell him; I feel more repulsed by my own image every time he finds something new to indicate. His words are like poison for my body; each new flaw another physical imperfection, another way for me to become a product of my own self-loathing. He has sent me into hysterics before; he claims to love me. But love is a dangerous thing. And my love for him may very well be too much for my own good...