that when I finally get to meet the other person who helped my mother sire me, it would be the last meeting we would ever have.
It would either be because I killed myself afterwards, or I get into an accident that killed me afterwards.
Is this all I’m waiting for? To go “Hello Dad, it’s nice to meet you again. Goodbye.” And that will be that. It’s funny but every year for the past decade or so, I’ve been making lists of things to do before my birthday because I resolved to kill myself after that. But every year, I kept backing out because I was scared of the chance of a failed attempt. Now, it’s just, I’m thinking maybe seeing my father will be that one last thing.