I hate it.
There's something about the past few months that make me want to run away.
All the decisions that I make are wrong.
I try to justify my bad decision making in my mind but I've got nothing.
The only person to blame is myself. I've made enough bad choices. Now they haunt me.
A long time ago, in second grade, I was positive I'd be a pro athlete.
By sixth grade I was settling for being a coach.
My junior year of high school I knew I was going to be an architect.
Now I'm in my fifth year of college trudging through to a physical education degree.
What the hell am I doing?
With a daughter on the way and me not being able to find hope for myself, what hope does she have?
But then again, maybe she is my hope. Maybe she is what will make me understand why this wretched life is actually worthwhile.
One can only hope.
So when she's here maybe I'll open my eyes.
Maybe I will be happy. And stay that way.
Until she says, "Dad, I made the cheerleading squad!"
Then we will have a long talk...
I need to find myself and what truly is my happiness. Sorry everyone, but I’m sick of making you all happy.