Useless

I felt useless. Why did he always make me feel as if I were worthless? Speaking to my father was like beating through windows with my hands, because the result would always be the same: I would be bleeding. I would be hurting. “Can’t you do ANYTHING right? What are you STUPID or something? You’re nothing but a damned Adams!” My mom was an Adams. When I did something right, he would say he’d been the one to do it; when I did something wrong, I would be called my mom’s surname. Perhaps I was useless. Perhaps I didn’t deserve to be alive. Maybe he was right. Maybe I was worthless. I mean, he keeps saying my tears won’t do me any good, but they keep coming anyway. Always suffocating… Always overpowering… Always knee-buckling, like a weight too strong for me to bear… Yet, despite all of this, I still love him. With every fiber of my being, I love him. He's my father; I am but the bastard child…and that is perhaps the reason I feel so useless.