you dont talk because you dont want to tell me something

last week my sister was organising her desk and she showed me a card i wrote her in ~2013, when i had been away on a class trip for my birthday and so wrote cards for each family member as a kind of apology. i had written about being sorry that we weren’t as close as we were as kids and not talking as much as we used to; that i loved her and was grateful. I think i promised to do better. i dunno if she was trying to tell me something, but days like these i’m sick of trying.

i was meant to ask her about the sensitive question of what she plans to do after her job contract ends, since as early as when exams ended? yet somehow i haven’t gotten round to it. the one night i planned to approach her- a few days before mothers’ day- she asked me if i had anything for our mother yet, then tsked and called me a bad kid when i said no. considering that i have come up with suggestions for parents’ days and birthdays for the past two years running and that i paid for the $250+ watch for my mom’s birthday last year, i thought this took some nerve. i went from 0 to blinding rage so fast, it was either leave the conversation or say something i’d regret. sometimes i don’t know how we got here. when i’m feeling particularly uncharitable i wonder if it was inevitable because of how our personalities differ- but then when i’ve cooled off i know that that’s not the case. i think i just resent that i’m the one trying to repair the breach when i don’t recall being the one who caused it in the first place.

mallory’s piece on ‘why you are lonely’ is BASICALLY MY LIFE, it hit so hard