The evening that brought the shitstorm

 AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

 

I blame my cycle. 

 I finally told my uncle the barbed words my dad threw at me about almost 13 years ago. I am a delayed responder. My brain didn't react the very time he said it, and next day he just shrugged it off. It is unfathomable to me how conveniently everyone has forgotten the hell I was put through. In the words of TS, "the scars from when they pulled me apart." 

It hit him like a bolt, suddenly everything made sense. My running away, my lack of desire to go back, and my distance from everyone. But I know nothing good is going to come out of this. I know exactly how this is going to go down. Dad will make a lot of drama, he will cry, he will drink, he will curse my mom, he will call me and weep etc, but nothing actually will change. It's been done and gone so long that I don't know if things can be fixed. 

I am, dear reader, incapable of forgiveness. I admit it.

I begged my uncle to let it go, made him swear; it just fell on dead ears. He is adamant to "fix" it. There is nothing to fix. That part of my heart died a long time ago, too bad they saw the obituary now. 

I guess I will let you know how this shitstorm went in a few days. 

While we are on the topic, I have never craved hugs before. In my 30 years on this planet, if we remove initial 5, I haven't been hugged much. I think since I was in my teens no one hugged me. Not even my mom. When I was in a relationship, didn't get hugged enough. I don't know what lies ahead but looking too good thus far.