Bullshit

They say “I understand. I know how you feel. It hurts – I know.”

Then they turn their heads and mutter to themselves… “What a selfish prick. Just feels sorry for himself.  I know plenty of people that hurt more than he does.  He just wants attention.”

So I sit in my fucking agony – put off the inevitable. Another day goes by because I don’t want my daughter to come come from work and find the sweet little dog screaming frantically or one of her precious cats  gobbling my brains up off the kitchen floor.

Another day goes by, so my children are spared the grief of deciding who pays for what; spared the arguments over who gets to figure out what to do with the old man’s carcass – that prick that left behind a piece of shit house worth half of what’s still owed on it, and a pile of medical and credit card bills the size of Mt. Everest.
And the stigma of the world knowing they’re the offspring of a self-absorbed asshole.

Another day goes by.

Another.

And another.