You know, like it says: I've been thinking. About a lot of things, really. Lately, I've been thinking about my mom, who died of cancer in same year as my dad, right before my birthday in November. I can't help but think of all the bullshit she pulled with me throughout my life. One of the biggest, being my brother being the favorite. He definitely didn't deserve it. If either of the two of us was deserving of being the favorite, it was me. He never did anything except repeatedly get in trouble. That includes drinking alcohol and smoking pot when he was in the fifth grade, always having his way when grocery day was on, attempting to get drunk, get high, and have a three way with his friend and friend's girlfriend in the house, throwing a house party with drugs and alcohol when mom and dad went to a company Christmas party, going to jail for stealing radios out of cars. Yeah, he has a VERY LONG tracklist. The reason for those examples, was he was never held accountable by my mother for any of it! I remember, I was 13. I came up with the experiment of trying to get my mom's attention off my brother for two seconds. The experiment only lasted two months, because I realized that it wasn't working. Believe it or not, my experiment consisted of shoplifting. Of course, I always returned everything with a heartfelt apology. Kenny wouldn't do that. No, if he did what I did in my experiment, my mom would have immediately jumped in, and started defending and making excuses for him. Plus, he would have gotten to keep what he stole. With no repercussions. Now, he's a drunken drug addict with no job, and I'm waiting for him to finally croak, so I can make his funeral my moment. After all, I think it's only fair. He's been pissing on my parade for my whole life, as well as making my whole life his moment. But yeah, I gave up a lot of what I liked for my mom's happiness, especially when it came to her hobbies. Hobbies that I had absolutely no interest in, but set aside what I liked so that she would have someone to gush to. Kenny didn't do that. Kenny stole from her. Kenny lied to face. Kenny never really gave a shit. It was always me. When my dad died earlier in the year that she died, I was the one to call 911. I was the one to talk to dispatch. I was the one who talked to the police and the coroner. I was the one who called the rest of the family. I was the one to help her with her physical therapy during her cancer. I was the one keeping track of her medicine. I was the one who went with her to her appointments. I was the one who dropped everything in middle school to ride with her on an emergency trip to Michigan, because my grandma died out of nowhere. Is everyone seeing a pattern, here? I hope so. Kenny NEVER ONCE was a part of any of that. Wait, I have one more for you, the REAL kicker: Literally the month before she died, my mom FINALLY told me, that of my brother and I, that I was always the better one. Just gonna let that sink in for you for a minute. Has it sunk in, yet? Good. It took my mother to LITERALLY BE ON HER DEATH BED TO FINALLY ADMIT THAT I WAS ALWAYS THE BETTER ONE. Talk about salt in the wound. I dropped everything for the bitch, and she goes and throws this bombshell at me the month before she died? A real "mother of the year", right? My mother is a reason why I am the way I am sometimes. I've had people ask me why I was in therapy. My answer was always the same: Family. Family is the reason behind my decision to move off on my own, far away from all of the familial bullshit. And when I say "far away", I mean "FAR AWAY". If I play my cards right, I could end up living in the Cayman Islands. A tax neutral zone. There, I won't have to worry about giving the government a rent payment every year. That's basically what property taxes are. The Cayman Islands have a temperature of 77-84° all year long. And, from the pictures I've seen, it is absolutely GORGEOUS no matter what part you move to. So, yeah, thank you for hearing me out during this rant of my life. You guys are awesome if you made it this far. Thanks for reading.
*picture above is not mine. Credit goes to the creators.
