I do not hate my father but I do not love him either. Whenever I think about him, I remember his curses and abuse more than his prayers and praises, the look of disgust on his face more than smiles, the times I go hungry more than the times he fed me, the things he didn’t do more than the things he did. It’s keeping me up at night. I pray God put his love in my heart so I can only see the positives and not the negatives. It’s hard but I will keep praying.