Try

In the departure hall with dad now - the trip hasn't even bloody started and already things are fraying.

Long story short? We fought. Again. My favourite part of it all was when he said: "If I had known it would be like this, I would have changed my mind about bringing you on this trip." to which I shot back: "Well you know what, we're stuck together for a month, so either we figure out how to talk to each other or this trip is really going to screw over."

Wow, right? We really do get along nicely. Maybe he should have swapped my name for mum's instead - it sure felt as if she were going for the trip instead of me after all.

I can't pretend to be my mother for him. I don't talk as nicely, and I'm not as patient as she is. He has his ego and a quick temper to deal with, and I'm quick to anger (though also quick to cool down, though I admit I hold grudges) and guilty of not always thinking before I say things - plus I admit that I intentionally cut with my words when I'm angry.

But I'm actually fucking trying. I'm trying to help in any way I can because I don't want this trip to be a fuckup.

As much as my dad might not believe it, I'm not some satan-worshipping cultist who wants nothing better than to watch this trip crash and burn - I actually want to enjoy this trip, okay? I want to enjoy it with my dad, and I want to create memories that I'll be able to look back on in 10 years and go: "Hey, we actually managed to get along then, didn't we?"

I want to enjoy this trip because I know how much Japan means to both my dad and I - I really just can't help the fact that we're equally stubborn and haven't had a proper conversation since I stopped being 6 years old. 

I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm really praying for this trip to work out. I really fucking am.

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