I know you'll never see this. Then again, you might since you have someone stalking me on all of my social media. Fine. Let them print this out too. This isn't to, "ruin your good name." You had to have had a good name before a twenty-three-year-old with too much life experience can ruin it. This isn't a hit piece. This is disappointment. This is hurt.

This is what two -- yes, I said two-- generations of abuse look like. I have been told awful stories about how you would whip my mother with a belt over something another sibling did. Before someone says there's a difference in whipping and spanking, I know. One night, you even beat her with your belt and left bloody welts from her neck to her ankles. Even in my life, you have done things that no grandchild should see you do. I thank God every day that I am old enough to comprehend everything now.

At three years old, I saw you leave the house at 4 AM, knowing, just knowing, that you were going to work. Why did I just know this? Because you saw me awake and you told me to be quiet and not wake Nana up. But you didn't come home until nearly 5 PM. Why? Where was my, "Pawpaw," for all of that time? I was almost 4 when I found out.

Mama, Nana, my six-month-old sister, and I went on a trip one day to Soddy-Daisy, Tennessee. Yay! I was three so I still loved traveling. What I didn't know was that we were going there to catch you cheating on Nana. Once again, I was three years old.

How do you explain to a three-year old that she just saw the man she loves the most walking out of another woman's house? Luckily, I didn't understand. I still don't understand and I have a very deep passion about cheating.

At four, I was terrified of you. Why? Because you bought me my own ice cream maker for Christmas and I was playing with it. Nothing to be scared of really. Then, you decided to come do work in there. Okay, fine. I'm four and want to spend every second of every day with my Nana and my, "Pawpaw." Well, as four-year-olds do, I spilled the ice cream. You lost your mind. You yelled and screamed. You raised your hand to hit me. Mama stepped in. She didn't want me to go through what she went through.

At six, I listened to you try to beat my disabled father and, when my mother tried to pull you off of him, you turned around and slapped her in front of my two-year-old sister because she was trying to tell you that the two-year-old was in there. Mama finally had enough. Thirty-two years of this was enough. Shortly after, Nana filed for divorce. We all cheered.

For the next sixteen years, I avoided you. You constantly tried to buy mine and my sister's love. That's not how love works though. We would begrudgingly accept because we knew. We always knew. We weren't stupid. Then, Uncle Jeff got sick.

You came to the hospital the second night like you care about him his entire life. However, that was the first time in forty-seven years that you bothered to show up when he was sick. I was already upset because I had been at the hospital the night before until 3 AM and watched him make himself sick.

My sister and I got to the hospital that night not knowing what to expect because he literally died three times in the hour it took us to drive there. When we walked in, it was about you. Your son was lying in a bed dying and it was about you.

In reality, you were never the caring and loving father you portrayed yourself to be that night or anytime you've been since then. You have had our entire family convinced that Uncle Jeff as going to be dead in a matter of hours at least twice a month since October 13th.

You even tried to pull the plug after his doctors said he would be okay after he got medicine. You are the sore on society to me. You and so many people like you are the reason people don't want children of their own because they don't want them to endure the pain they did as a child.

Repeatedly, through this whole ordeal, you have somehow made yourself the most painful family member to be around. Everything is about how much money you have and how Uncle Jeff is going to die any day. I know that we are all embarrassments to you. We aren't rich. We didn't play sports. We are all happy people without you.

But, do you want to know what we did do? We did better for ourselves than being stuck in your vicious cycle, all thanks to Nana leaving you. You have turned my life into the worst soap opera of all time just by being in the same zip code as me again.

I, and MY whole family will be happy when you decide you can't make yourself look good anymore.