Don't you know that we bleed the same?

And just like that,

No matter what the blood that tied them together,

She no long wanted him to be part of her. 

Yet she understood that not everyone was made to be a father,

She hated the way he looked at her.

Most little girls saw mosters in their closet, i saw mine with a bottle in the living room.

There isn't much more to say.

I've never known him as anything else but stranger.