Dear Father,

I stopped talking about politics with the rest of the family not because I was tired of being wrong but because I wanted to be happy. You belittle me enough as it is, as does Mother. Worldly events and listening to your Doomsday bullshit is only an unnecessary exhaustion.

You seem intent to prove to me something about police, and you seem to be shoving it down my throat at every opportunity; you insist on talking of current events and then insist that I hold an opinion that I don't, calling out my stupidity at every time, how crude the candidates I support are, as if there are any other options these days. And still, every time I go downstairs, or anywhere around you really, you insist on how stupid my opinions are, and how I must have such opinions even though I've told you multiple times that I don't. You say, "If you disagreed you'd be saying, 'HELL NO I DON'T AGREE'," but I could say this all I want and it wouldn't matter to you. It isn't that I agree; it's that you have weakened my resolve and I no longer see any point in speaking on it.

Hearing your endless babble about how the coronavirus is being played up for politics and how Trump will be just fine is fucking tiring, and I don't even need to hear it to get tired, because everything you say fucking exhausts me. (Really, the most recent example- you asked me what the difference is between the right to own guns and the right to free speech, and then went on to say how both are equally important. Vocabulary is truly limiting at times.) Go ahead and say that I'm naive, spoiled, and how I'll never survive on my own; don't bring politics into it, you cunt.

We were walking through the neighborhood when a police officer drove by. I've no idea why, as we live in a retirement neighborhood, but I digress. A police officer drove by and you said, "Get down!" and I kept walking. You caught up with me and asked me, mockingly, if I wanted to die. I would have responded yes, but decided instead to say nothing.

The sunset was purple, blue, orange, red; an amalgam of color, the trees among us sporting leaves, some tinted with beautiful oranges and reds, others only just peeling away from green. The smell of manufactured blueberry muffins- I'd know it well, as that was a smell that haunted one of the worst points of my life so far- wafted in the air. The clouds dusted the sky, rolling in slowly, ominously and yet calmly. A blanket of cold.

You noticed none of it, just continued babbling about Biden and Harris an how stupid I am, how naive and dependent, how worthless, how unable to survive.

Just a few days ago I got out of a slump of everyday feeling exactly the same, but now I think you've went and dragged me back into it. You're relentless in your effects; you should've given up by now. I just don't understand why you had to resume this as soon as I find worth in the days. Listening to your talk, your degradation, the ripe anger of your words so harmfully pointed at me- it is exhausting. There is no point to waking up in the morning anymore unless I can avoid you, and if I am to stay in my room just to do so I may as well sleep. Spending time with you makes it seem, even to myself, that I am a worthless traitor, a parasite on the nation. It is impossible to fathom a reason I should not kill myself, then, if only to stop being such a perceived blight on the nation. I continue to live, but alas- the degradation is tiring, and I would like very much just to sleep.

A few houses down a father was making dinner for his kids and wife. I thought, "How lucky those kids are, to spend time with their father like that" and I realized you were right next to me. Listening to you go on about how the Democrats are worthless and how you had a full-time job at fourteen, how I am to blame for the fact that you feel like a shit parent, I allowed myself to think of the lucky children once again. Even though you were right next to me, I still felt very much alone.