Over time things are meant to become easier; people are meant to become more understanding; needs should have become more realistic and in tune with the rest of the general populace and explanations should have become a not-required feature in families. Somehow all those never seem to apply to me.
Even after some six years of actually being on my own and some six years before that of being practically on my own, every time I meet someone from the family things just go right back to some pre-set point. It should not be that difficult, should it not? But it always is.
It is astounding to have people throw at you different variations of the same old parental pangs, asking you to try and understand "how they feel" while nobody had, and still don't have, the fucking sense to ask me how I have felt, not now, now ten years back or even fifteen. It is always a goddamn 'phase' and you will always 'come around.'
I mean, all you get after making a bloody name and career for yourself without sucking up to some minister or taking some other 'influential' creep's name, in a place where you did not want to move to and a career that you did not want since the only thing you wanted - a real fucking family - did not give a shit for you, are mildly disguised taunts and advice to move back to a god awful tiny scrap of a town where nobody likes you, you don't know anybody and everyone has a say in everyone else's business.
"Well, you might fucking die there, but hey, you are dying in the lap of all the insane blood relations; now does that rock or what?"
Why in the world is it so difficult for people to let others be? I don't ask much of anyone. I don't ask anyone to change their ways to suit mine. Hell, I try as much as possible not to get in anyone's way, if I can help it. I am not looking for apologies or letters of acceptance. I don't want a badge for taking care of myself. I don't even want you to like me. Just let me be, or is that really too much to ask for?
I would really love to say I don't get affected by all of this. Apparently, I still do and by quite a bit too, it seems. Every time it ends up being even more of an ordeal than the previous time and I am really sick and tired of them to the point where I just feel like picking up a stick and chasing all of them out of my life.