done

(a final update before bed… the machine is still acting up, but it turns out the crashes seem to be related to something happening either with the browser or possibly something happening in the file permission structure. in the meantime, sadder happenings.)

This is a very hard letter for me to write, but I think the time has come that it is obvious and I see no reason to continue trying to pretend otherwise.

I have asked you repeatedly to stay in touch with me. I have asked you repeatedly to visit me. I have asked you repeatedly to demonstrate care of and for me. And in every case, you have plenty of words, but very little in the way of actions to offer. In every case, you make promises and break them. Constantly. You have stood me up repeatedly. You tell me you miss me, but you never can be bothered to do more than say it.

I have given you the best years of my life and during those years, I gave nothing to anyone but you.

When it was a choice between myself or you, you always won. There was simply no question of it being otherwise. To me, that was what family and love were supposed to be. So that is how I was with and to and for you.

Like so many others in my life, the moment I could not do this was the moment you decided I wasn’t important anymore.

You can’t be bothered to answer when I call.

You only write when there is something you want to show me.

My requests to actually be part of your life are routinely ignored.

You tell me we will do things together and I am so happy and I look forward to them. Then, you forget. You just… forget. And I feel stupid for thinking I mattered because it is so obvious that I do not.

Do you realize that if I were to die in this little apartment, you simply would not know it for weeks? That, in fact, my friends overseas would know before you would?

I could be homeless and you would not care. I *have* been homeless and you have not cared. I have taken a corner in the —–‘s house because my own daughter could not be bothered, wasn’t willing, didn’t care.

You say you care, but there are not actions to follow those words. It is all about you, what you want, what you want to do, and nothing or no one who does not fit in with your plans is given consideration.

So be it.

This is the treatment of stranger to stranger and I finally accept that we are, in fact, strangers.

You want to have a life where you can do as you wish, when you wish, and never have to be bothered with more than what you choose to pay attention to.

So be it.

You want to have a life where you don’t have to consider or think about anyone but yourself.

So be it.

You want to have a life where the ledgers are empty and all the care and love freely given you over years were “obligatory” but not at all incumbent or in any manner deserving of more than lipservice from you.

So be it.

I have not asked you for very much in life at all. Mostly because I cannot bear to, but also because any time I ever have, all I have received from you is condemnation and accusation and anger and rejection.

I have never asked you for a thing until I was absolutely desperate and I have never asked that you could resist the need to tell me all the reasons why it is such an imposition upon you, such a hardship, such an undeserved and terrible thing that anyone should ever look to you for anything.

You think about this for a moment — As broke down as I am, when you have called me in tears, telling me you missed me, telling me you want us to be a family, have I ever said ‘no’? Did I ever do anything except plan and talk about how to manage it? My door has always been open to you because my heart has always been open to you.

You should thank your stars that I was not the same to you as a child as you have chosen to be to me as an ‘adult’.

I am not angry. I am sad. I am hurt. And I finally realize… I am alone.

So be it.

I birthed you because I wanted you and I loved you. I raised you because I wanted to, because you were the most precious thing ever in my life. You never really understood that. I do not think you ever will. I do not love you because I **HAVE TO**, but because I **WANT TO**…. but loving you does NOT mean I have to endure repeated demonstrations of the lack of care and love you have for me.

I wish you all the very best things. I will always wish for you only the best things. I love you. I will always love you, but I cannot take how you treat me anymore.

I am done, ——-. Done. To be panicked and desperate and have you blow me off because there is a cookout…. to be less important to you than a cookout….. no, no, ——-, I will not take this from you anymore.

The saddest thing of all is that there is no doubt in my mind you will tell yourself this is about money. It has never been about money. But because money is so very important to you, that is all you will see.

So be it.

I have been hurting all my life for the people I have loved who could never manage to love me. I am tired of being hurt by you. I do not deserve it and I am simply not going to take it anymore. Given the choice between being alone or being constantly reminded how little I matter or mean, I choose to be alone.

I cannot do this anymore. I am done.