Uncle Joe, PLEASE.

PLEASE.

Saturday afternoon, I went over my Grandmother's house. I ended up staying the night. I didn't WANT to, but I was too tired so I didn't bother going to the bus stop. Anywho....

I forgot my Uncle Joe's birthday.

Now, I'm not close at all with my Uncle Joe but I love him. He's a a**hole but I love him.

And I really shouldn't have felt so guilty about missing his birthday, since he has missed more than a few of my birthdays. No cards, calls, visits....nothing.

But I felt. Guilty.


So....


I went to a local store and bought him a beautiful card. Very heartfelt.

I called. And asked him was he coming over anytime soon in my area. "Oh yeah, I'm going to come that way any minute. We are going to spend the day together. You, your cousins, and I."


When he told me he was going to come over my way, I must admit, I got pretty excited. (I usually never do.)

It's been a minute since I've seen him. I love him. He's handsome, funny.....

Yep.

Hours pass by.
Kept calling him.
"just got out the shower."
"I have to get a ride from a friend, he's on his way."
"I have to take the bus. About to catch the next one."

After ALL of that,
My excitement dies down. I give up.

I leave.

And I rip up his b-day card.

It's Monday now.

My grandma is over here.

She tells me, "Oh your Uncle Joe came by, right after you left."

"So?"

"I told him you were mad at him. He said some chick kidnapped him and took him to the movies."

WTF?!

I'm hurt.

Not the first time.

I'm sick.
Of pain.

Not only physically.
Emotionally.

I hate being sick.
Pain lasts longer for me.
It stays.
Forever.

Wounded since a little child.

By people who I thought were there for me.
But It was only a one-sided situation.
I was there for them.

Can't do this anymore.
It makes me sick.
It drives me up the wall.

Just said some hurtful things to my mom.
Not the first time.

She did the same.
Not the first time.

What's to come?
I'm not sure.

But I'm ready.
For pain.