My dad had been married before and had had a son before so I was nothing new to him. He adored my sister though, which kind of gave me a complex for the rest of my life. It's not that he didn't love me; he just didn't love me as much as her. I know it's true, and so did my mom, who both of us were always more close with. I remember this one time, though, when I was ten, he came home with this really nice gift for her, and this throw away present for me, as if it was an afterthought. I remember feeling so disappointed and jealous that day. And I don't think I ever forgave him for that.