Here we go.

What does one say the night before she testifies against her father in criminal court?

Not sure. But I feel like I should write.

Writing has been hard for me lately, hence the extreme lack of updates. It makes me think and quite honestly, it's easier not to think.

I don't really appreciate the reminder of how screwed up my world has become over the past ten months. How screwed up our situation is. How screwed up my father is. How screwed up what he did to us was. I've come to realize just how valuable denial can be as a coping mechanism.

This week has been ten months in the making. I've been anticipating this week all that time but now that it's actually here, I don't feel ready. Somehow though, I'm also eager to get it over with. My life is full of contradictions these days.... if you're going to keep reading, you might want to get used to that.

Tomorrow marks the beginning of the end for us. In one sense that's good.... we'll be able to move forward with our lives and this will only be a thing of the past. In another sense it's bad.... we'll be expected to move on when in reality, I feel like I'm going to be brokenhearted all over again.

Because with conviction comes a sentence and with a sentence comes my dad getting shipped off to God-knows-where. While I haven't seen him in the flesh in nine months, I'm saddened by the fact that he will be sent hours away. I find comfort in knowing he's close even though at times, I've been fearful of that same fact.

I'm brokenhearted that this is our reality. That it's come down to this. The finality of it all is crushing.

As my sister said last week, "These three days are going to change our lives forever."

He's not a good person right now and he did a terrible, horrendous thing but somehow, I still love him. I want to hate him but I can't. He wasn't always a bad man. I look at the wedding photo that sits on my dresser every day and am brought back to how it once was. It wasn't perfect but it wasn't awful, either. He loved us in the only way he knew how... and while that wasn't a truly "healthy" love, it was better than nothing.

I can say that because now, I've got nothing with regards to him. And it hurts. A lot. He's told us that he wants nothing to do with us and his actions and words have repeatedly suggested this.

I wish I could see him wrap his arms around my daughter again. That I could hear the excitement in his voice when we all walked in the door. He never really knew how to love me well (or my sister or my mom for that matter) but he sure knew how to love Liana and Lukas well. He lived for them.

I only wish he had tried to live for them back in February. It infuriates me and devastates me at the same time that he gave up on being a part of our lives... and even worse, tried to take my mom out of this world with him.

I wish he could see Liana and Lukas and what they've grown to be over the past ten months. How much he's missing out on. I know I'd see a softer side of him if he did rather than this hate-filled side I see of him now.

I wish I could sit across from him that court room tomorrow and I could see his love and his regret for hurting us the way that he has. I know that won't happen though. Instead, I'll feel fearful and anxious because of his angry demeanor. He continues to make it blatantly clear that he has no regrets for his actions that night. Each time he says something to this effect, it's like a dagger to my soul all over again.

Because not only did he destroy my mom's life that night, be he destroyed the rest of ours as well.

I hate to say that because I feel like it gives him too much control but the fact is, right now it's the truth. Every day I live with the pain of what he did and what he's doing... to her, to himself, to Brittany, to Liana, to me.

I've never felt so broken and so strong all at the same time. I feel like I'm at a healthy place in my grief because of therapy but at the same time, I feel like I'm falling apart. How does that work? If you know, please, tell me. I can't for the life of me figure it out.

I just wish God could make his heart softer. I may be 30 years old but when it comes down to it, I'm just a girl who wants to be loved and cared for by her dad.

So, that's where I'm at tonight. All over the board mentally and broken emotionally. I know I'll get through this week because I have to. But how I'll get through this week, I'm still unsure of.

I just hope that someday, God answers some of these questions I have for Him because "not knowing" is weighing heavily on this heart of mine.