what i could never say

i hate that i am writing this letter, but it needs to be done. these things have to be said or i feel i will combust and destroy everything in my wake.

i need to let you go—or at least the you i knew. you’ve changed. you’ve chosen him, and that is okay. i need you to know that it’s okay. that sometimes, you meet that person that treats you the way you’ve always wanted to be treated. you meet the person who takes your breath away, who heals your inner child. you meet the person that makes you feel safe and loved, always.

i realize that im not that person for you anymore—actually, I don’t think I was ever that person for you. i think I was a placeholder until he came along to fill the role better. and I won’t lie and say that it doesn’t sting and that I wish I was that person for you, but never would I want to deny you that happiness.

I need you to understand that it’s okay to admit it, that it’s okay to let me go. to let me let go. that this isn’t because I don’t love you, or that I’m leaving you. just because you don’t say it, put a label on it, or name it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. we’ve changed, whether you address that or not. and quite frankly, the only person you’re hurting by not just admitting it, is me.

i am tired of fighting for mere scraps of the feast I used to be served. i don’t deserve this, and you don’t either. we deserve to be happy, to be whole selves, and be loved. neither of us get those things together like this anymore.

so this is it. this is goodbye to what and who we were. goodbye to clinging to something long gone. it’s bittersweet, but it’s not the end. i am not gone from your life, my presence will just be different now.

I love you. i will always love you. i will just have to learn to love you differently.

sincerely yours,

i pay every single day and will continue to pay because i cannot change. i have tried, i have cried and begged and pleaded with everything in me to stop being angry at my core. i will always answer any injustice to me with defense and anger, i will always feel that insurmountable feeling surge up my throat, clenching it so tightly it’s painful.

i know i am not an easy person to love. i know that i lash out at those around me, that i hurt the people i care for for the tiniest bits of satisfaction for my pettiest parts.

it feels like i’ve known for forever that eventually the day would come when i was officially alone. no matter how many bittersweet words and gilded promises came my way, i always knew there would come a moment when, without a doubt, i would know i was never the priority to anyone.

i’ve long known i wasn’t my parents’ priority. from the first moments in the shadow of the trouble and the golden, I knew there wasn’t much left for me. from the being forgotten, to never being praised, to being shoved aside the moment one of them came along…well, it wasn’t hard to do the math. they might give me fancy things, or privileges early, but those things are mere substitutes for actual care. a distraction.

my friends…they were harder to realize. i thought I’d never have to say goodbye to some of them, yet here I am, angry and bitter over them. someone always came along that got the new priority, and I am still here—with nothing.

but you? truth be told, I didn’t see it coming. and worst of all, I’m not even angry with you—just uncomfortable by change. i want this for you, I want you to be happy more than anything. by now, i am used to being replaced and the last option. you cannot hurt me more by also doing this, just that it came unexpectedly.

I won’t get recognition or repayment for this—nor do I expect to, either. I’m not telling you because I don’t want you to feel guilty or stressed from my stress. But it really sucks to feel like I’m losing my mind over here and you don’t care, you’re indifferent, griping at me like it’s a normal day.

you say that they’re my friends too, but they’re not, not really. not when it counts. and I guess I say I’m okay with it and that it doesn’t bother me to surround myself with people who would choose you over me in a heartbeat like I have been the rest of my fucking life, but i think it’s time I stopped lying and admit that it’s really fucking hurtful.

I wish that for one goddamn second, one fucking person would cherish me like I’m their world, like so many do to you. Is it so much to ask? at this point, it’s not even that I need someone to cherish me—like sure it’s nice, but at this point, I would accept just being like a high second or third to anyone except being under you.

I can’t think of a single thing someone has done that has just genuinely been like,,,because they cared about me. I go out of my way to tell others I love them; buy dinner, bring gifts on bad days, do what I know they want to do. but for me? I can’t think of a single time someone has done that for me.

Or worst, when they do do something nice, they quickly throw it back in my face, like “you can’t be mad I did this today, I watched this with you last night!” like…that’s so shitty. I go out of my way to show love in my way, and no one does the bare basics for me.

1. Does your anger come from family issues?

I definitely think family issues played a part. Most of my family has nasty, explosive tempers, but the only one I think genuinely has anger issues with my dad. I think anger being my #1, first emotion to a lot of things definitely stem from my home life though.

2. Do you isolate yourself so you don’t hurt others?

For sure. I’m not great at it, and it’s often times after the fact that I start isolating. But it’s not fun, and what’s worse is realizing I lost my cool again and now everyone feels awkward.

3. What made you not care about anyone’s feelings anymore?

Realizing they didn’t care about mine, or not as much as I cared about theirs. Shit, I have to be the priority in someone’s life—even if it’s just mine.

4. Do you prefer to be angry or sad?

Anger for sure. Neither are great and both are awful to feel, but all consuming anger is a lot better than crumpling sadness.

5. Who do you take your anger out on the most?

My sister. I hate that I do it, and it’s not fair to her. She pushes my buttons easiest and knows how best to get under my skin. I know she doesn’t mean to though.

6. What is it like hiding your sadness and just showing your anger?

It’s depressing. The thought of even showing one hint of being hurt is so embarrassing and yucky, but everyone thinks you’re some crazy violent bitch when showing anger. I’d rather be called a bitch than even risk having someone react the wrong way to my hurt.

7. What do you think the worst part about it is?

The loneliness.

8. How do you feel after having a burst of anger?

Most times, shitty. There’s this vague sense of child-like “I did something wrong” that just sends me into a panic.

9. What triggers your anger?

Honestly, it depends. My patience changes daily, depending on mood. The biggest thing to trigger my anger though is insulting me/making me feel like you’re insulting me, or hitting my biggest pet peeve.

10. How do you think this affects you?

I’m not sure. Not all positively though.

11. How are you physically?

Tired and aching. My foot keeps doing a weird sensory thing.

12. How do you cope?

Distance, time, and sleep. If I’m in a social setting, I’ll just keep to myself for a moment.

13. Are you angry at yourself? Why?

But damn did he love me the best he could.

To say I’ve changed is an understatement. If I met little me, I think I’d be shocked by the amount of pure hatred and rage I carried with me. I let things go now, breathe and let them roll off my shoulders. I’m still an angry person, but I’ve definitely become less hateful and vengeful. I’ve learned that despite circumstances, my emotions are my own and the actions I take under the influence of anger are still mine to take the consequences of.

Truthfully, my anger is overwhelming most times. It builds in my chest, washing over me until it’s all I really know. It’s all consuming and tiring, and I feel much worse after.

I WISH I wasn’t an angry person.

It’s hard to be filled with so much hatred you can barely breathe sometimes. It’s hard to see yourself snap at loved ones and immediately regret it. You think I like going to bed, replaying the moments I regret?

My anger is a righteous protector, but also an all-encompassing destroyer.

I’m so fucking tired of how my family treats me about my pets. I have two cats and one dog that are officially mine, but since I live with the majority of my family, they’re not solely around me.

The only one that really really loves me is one of the cats, who I got in seventh grade. He helped me through some of the darkest times of my life, when I felt loneliest and would just cry into his back.

He’s annoying as all get out—but at the end of the day, I’m the one he comes to snuggle up and sleep with.

The other two pets aren’t as close to me. My first cat I got in kindergarten, and she wasn’t a snuggly pet (still isn’t). I didn’t understand that then, but we’ve come around to liking each other. She’ll purr when I pet her and still come to my calls, but won’t let me hold her for longer than a minute most times.

The other one is a large puppy (I say large puppy because she’s a big breed so she’s huge but technically still a puppy). I moved away to college after the summer we got her, so she’s closest to my mom. She likes me best for playtime because I’ll get up and run around with her, but we aren’t super close like dog and their owners typically are.

We also have an old family dog who prefers my room best and will snuggle with me only when I lay on the floor (she doesn’t like beds, we don’t know why). And I love all of these animals dearly, like other family members. I would go above and beyond to protect them, and am often the first to sneak them an extra treat.

Well, onto the rant. Today we got two new cats that are going to be outdoor cats (don’t bitch at me about the dangers of outdoor cats. I live in the country with acres of land, and we have a screened in porch for them, and the main animals we have where I live are the deer that we feed). Anyway, the kittens are skittish and aren’t adjusting to the house as quickly as any of us would have liked, but it’s only the first day and all of us have dealt with skittish cats.

My problem is that my family likes to make jokes about how I love the animals the most but they all like me the least. And most times, I can brush it off. But we had a friend over who wanted to come with to see the kittens and I made a comment about how my cat from seventh grade was the only animal really attached to me and my dad looks up and is like “he doesn’t even like you.”

At first I protest but then I can feel my feelings getting hurt so I stop, and change the topic. I guess it just sucks because that is the one pet I really thought loved me most and got me through some shit. The comments normally don’t get to me, but today they make me want to ignore the animals until they come to me—which is petty and childish and unfair to my beloved animals, because it’s nothing /they/ did.

It also annoys me because I’m the one that does the majority of the unpleasant pet owner tasks. If there’s an accident from any of them, I clean it up. If they need to go out in unfavorable conditions, (pitch black, pouring rain, etc.) I’m the one who takes them. If their fur is everywhere, I’m the one who sweeps it up. For example, my mom dropped food on my cat from seventh grade and he reeked—so I had to be the bad guy and give him his first ever bath. If they do something they know they’re not supposed to do, I have to discipline or remove them from the situation. If they mess things up or break something, I have to clean up or replace. Things like this, where it’s the not fun parts of being a pet owner.

I love my pets. Dearly. And I never mind doing those unpleasant tasks, because the good always outweighs the bad. like my big ol’ puppy placing her head in my hand, looking lovingly up at me, as I brush her head because she loves it. Or her bringing me her favorite toy out of everyone because she likes how I play best. Or how sometimes, she’ll snuggle up to me and lay all over me or let me lay all over her. Or how my oldest kitty will come and weave inbetween my legs randomly. Or how she’ll meow and won’t stop until I call to her where I am so she can find me. Or how my younger kitty will curl up on my arm, pinning me into cuddling him. Or how he will actively lay on whatever has my attention so it’s now on him. Or how when I’m sitting at my desk, painting or doing something on my laptop, he has to sit in my lap. Or how if he’s on a table and I approached, he immediately flops and exposes his belly for belly rubs.

And I know that all of these are examples of how the pets love me. I know this. My upset isn’t with any of them, but the jokes from my family because yeah, my pets do more obvious tokens of affections with them. My puppy will climb in my dad’s lap, or always goes to my sister’s bed to snuggle first. My oldest cat typically lets my sister hold her longer or sleeps mostly in her room. My younger cat spends most of the day downstairs annoying my mom, or will hop into my dad or sister’s lap first when we’re all in the living room before maybe eventually coming to mine.

I can never fucking win. Never.

There was something wrong with me and I just had to tough it out for YEARS.

I had digestive issues since like my 8th grade year to the end of my 12th grade year. I mean, I couldn’t eat anything and not have stomach pain afterwards. We tried everything—dietary changes, lactates, and every inbetween. Nothing worked. My stomach would hurt just as bad after a salad as it would the greasiest of fast food.

And you know what? My family just overlooked that. Because we didn’t have the money for it to be a problem. I walked around my days, in pain and having to rush to the bathroom after every meal and everyone just ignored it. My family made jokes about it (which were funny...) and it was something that genuinely changed my life habits.

The majority of my family has health insurance now, and we’re trying to get me on it. My sister has started to have a similar issue, but with nausea and headaches. She’s gone to the doctor twice and they’re actively trying to figure out the cause.

I don’t wish ill on my sister. I want them to find out what is wrong with her and help her because no one deserves to go through pain daily. But it is something I noticed as just a matter of the fact.