It's no use pretending i had a happy Christmas because i'm still here in tears. It's Dad's birthday today, and all i can think about is Dad hitting Mum. Not that i was there at the time, it's one of things mum told me about that happened due to his illness. All i can think of it what an unhappy family we are. We went to Chicago at the Alex last night, and mum cried. Lucy held her hand.

I made her cry. She said in her child-voice, is that a new handbag? It wasn't new, it's a good six months old. And that made her cry. Lucy can comfort her. I can't.

I feel as if i have no love in my heart at all. All i remember is stories about Dad hitting her, and her hitting back. The arguments, and mum not speaking to me. The tears i shed, and the shouts that i was a mouse not a man.

The guilt i feel at not being able to help mum because she is sad, and because i cannot love.

The loniness and the jealousy i feel towards Lindsay for having a husband and two parents. It's odd, but her mum invited me to come around to her house any time i want. Maybe she sees in me the need i have for some sort of stable family, instead of one where a don't even know my cousins, and my mum never made my friends welcome.

Which sounds like i'm blaming her. But i know that it's I who cannot love.

I just want to stop the imagined images of Dad hitting mum from running through my head...

What do i do to stop them?