first born son

truly hilarious how the silliest, seemingly unimportant things insidiously slip past every defense and mechanism to gently administer only the slowest and deepest of cuts.

lotta difficulty eating these days yknow? extremely rare that i have an appetite let alone a craving.

today it was some fried chicken. i don’t like the stuff, haven’t had it in months, but today that’s what i was craving.

do you ever have these sorts of days where you crave one thing and can only eat/be satisfied with that specific thing? that’s what it was today.

unfortunately i didn’t have anything to make and well i just bought some medication and other essentials so no money for eating out. Gatorade and ice for today it is.

12:10 pm i descend down the stairs, head into the kitchen to see if maybe there’s something i can nibble on when lo and behold, a box from the fried chicken place down the street. imagine my excitement! i knew my father had (as usual, almost every day) taken my sister out to drive around, go shopping, just spend time together, a ritual i’m never invited to of course but hey c’est la vie.

i guess during their outing they must have stopped at that very fried chicken place, and brought me home a box, how miraculous a coincidence!

i open it and half of a chicken strip with a gruesome crown of a bite mark stares back at me. box empty otherwise.

it’s not or at least shouldn’t be a big deal! it shouldn’t be! but it is, because it’s been like this my whole entire life.

i mean yknow i don’t blame the guy, he left when i was 1, we never bonded and when we met i was a nightmare kid always getting into trouble, and then always in the hospital or psych ward, i get it yknow. i understand why he doesn’t like me i really do but— if you’re gonna force existence upon me the least you can do is treat me somewhat kindly right?

or at the very least not rub it in my face so constantly. as soon as she was born he forgot i existed, which is great yknow i love to fly under the radar and be free to do whatever i want BUT

i guess seeing it every day, being reminded constantly that i am the failed first experiment, and watching the life i could have had, the father and mother i could have had, the support, the money, the compassion, the kindness, none of the beating. none of the screaming. none of the isolation, none of the imprisonment.

i guess that starts to grate away at you after a while.

i sent a text.

so no chicken for me huh

It was a quick snack☹️

aight

I have some leftovers there. They are very disappointing, but you can have them!

a solitary, halfway masticated half of chicken strip— leftovers. disappointing she says. she is just always so freely given the things i begged for and she can take them for granted enough to call them disappointing.

i’m not even angry or disappointed with my father, to forget about or deliberately leave me out is par for the course, but the one family member i poured all my hopes and energy into.

well, stupid of me to have come back anyway, this is what i get.

stupid of me to once more have foolishly had hope that anything would ever change.

𝔥𝔬𝔴 𝔡𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥 𝔲𝔭 𝔞 𝔴𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡?

with silent anger

𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔞 𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔣𝔢𝔠𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔱𝔢.

this was part of your plan, bringing us back here.

𝔫𝔞𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔡𝔯𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔥𝔞𝔡 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔟𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔤𝔬𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔫.

full marks, well done.

i surrender.