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2019-01-09 00:59:05 (UTC)

Family and the Lack Thereof

I have come to a point in my life where, aside from my sister and grandparents, I am beginning to feel indifferent for the rest of my family.

My stepmom is a different story, of course. She has always been the person I needed her to be.

When my mom finally entered back into my life and apologized for everything, I forgave her not because I loved her but because hating her felt like a poison and I wanted to stop hurting myself. I loved her... In a way. I don't want bad things to happen to her, even now. But I cannot ever have the relationship with her that we should have. She missed too much, threw me aside too many times. I am open with her about things, and occasionally have a twinge of "I need my mom" but... She doesn't enter my thoughts much. I am an awful daughter, maybe. We talk a few times a week via text, sometimes less. We might go a whole month without talking.

My father... I have given up on. He was, briefly, the father I needed him to be.

And then he wasn't.

I had forgiven him. I had thrown myself back into the relationship with an almost religious fervor. FINALLY! Someone in my family WANTED me! My daddy would be my daddy again!

I have not called him daddy in... A long time.

My parents keep treating me as if I am the parent. Or a friend. A confident. An ATM. And I got tired of it hurting me. I still cry for my father, of course, because the hurt is more recent and fresh. But with each passing day I feel more and more indifferent. I must, or it will kill me. I wonder then, is there something broken inside of me? I am capable of love, for I love my friends, I love my dog, my grandparents who I have rekindled a relationship with on my own terms, I love my boyfriend.

But I wonder am I capable of loving my parents again?

And does it make me a horrible person if I am not?

I have been more than generous with chances. I have given them years, my forgiveness, my assistance. I had thrown myself into repairing the damage they had done--that they never should have done. And now that it is obvious it will never be fixed, I am giving up. Why should I fix what they have broken, when they want me to do all the work? They are obviously indifferent to it. They may love me in their way, but I have to wonder if they do. On the inside, deep inside, do they look at me and feel nothing? How else could they put me through so much?

I want them at my wedding. Both of them. I will even jump through hoops to make sure it all goes smoothly.

But why? Why do I want them there?

To gloat? To show them that I will live a happy life anyways?

To give them a parent experience? To show them that I will be okay and they don't have to worry? (If they do at all!)

I... Am sometimes angry. But those days happen less and less. I was an accident, and clearly a burden. Not my fault, obviously. Two young people with the world on their shoulders and hatred between them.

Sigh.

I don't know. Maybe I'm just not capable of really loving them anymore. Even if they somehow became the parents they should have been and stayed that way. I don't think it could work, ever again. And a big part of me does still mourn THAT fact. The fact that for as hard as I tried, for as much as I did and said, it didn't matter in the end. But at least I won't have the additional pain of regretting NOT trying. I know I tried my best. I gave it my all.

Sometimes love just isn't enough.