The Diary of a Struggling Genderfluid: 2

Card Drama

Hey guys.

I'm back with another edition of 'The Monster constantly ruins everything'

To preface things, a week or two ago I was talking to my parents about how I don't like getting cards from the Monster and I don't care if there's money or anything in them, I just like to put them in the trash and be rid of them. However, my parents usually look through the card for money and gift cards first, so I can't always just throw it away. This practice of throwing away the cards and generally not notifying me about them has been going on for some time, and I generally appreciate it. The point is, during that conversation, Buttface suggested that it's 'stupid to throw away money' and that I 'should just take out the giftcard and not read it'.

I can't do that. If I even look at the card, with all its large lettering and the words 'DO NOT THROW AWAY!!' and 'PLEASE READ!' written on it and underlined thrice, I will want to open it. In other words, I pack my bags and get ready for a guilt trip.

So my brother came home today and came immediately into my room, handing me a card that was for Easter and proclaiming with a smug look on his face, 'See? You can just take out the gift card and throw away the card!'

With a look of disgust on my face, I told him to bring the card up to my father before preceding to rub off my hands while shuddering that I touched something she had touched.

I just shuddered again. Hold on I'm gonna wash my hands.

..

.

..

Sorry I'm back now. I just washed my hands like five times over and now my hands are all cold.

So anyway.

So Buttface brings the card up to my dad, and my dad starts flipping out. Like I have not heard him flip that much shit in a while. He started going on and on about how he couldn't believe that my little brother keeps trying to shove a relationship with the Monster down my throat, a relationship I've been avoiding for years. He was screaming about how he can't believe my little brother could do something to deliberately hurt me like that, and how he never ever wants Buttface to do something like that ever again.

At this point, me, being unable to avoid hearing my dad shouting at Buttface even through a closed door, had to step in. I told my dad to chill the f out, because there really wasn't any reason he needed to be yelling that much. The card didn't really bother as much as my dad was making it out to be.

My dad basically told me to fuck off and that he wouldn't tolerate anyone in the house doing things to deliberately hurt others.

The thing is, I don't think Buttface really meant to hurt me. He just doesn't think things out very well before he does them.

So anyway, I'm mad and I don't want to leave my room for the rest of the day. Good thing my parents go dancing today.

Tired-even-though-he-got-eight-hours-of-sleep-last-night Markie out. (demiboy)