I should have known. Really, I just should have known that having any faith at all in my father was a bad idea. A gigantic, huge, colossally bad idea. Apparently his idea of helping me out is telling me that I'll need to start saving my pennies. As if I don't fucking know that already!
Every time I think I can depend on him, even a little, he lets me down. And every time I swear that it's going to be the last time. That I'm going to cut all ties with him for the sake of my own mental health. And what do you know, 2 years later, and I'm going through the same shit again.
This time really is going to be the last time. So far as I'm concerned, I don't have a father.