Second, this weekend - spent in the company of a lovely family - wound up reminding me just how much I wish I was a part of a family. Yeah, there are people out there who are related to me - a sister who won't keep in touch, a brother who was too busy to see me when I came to visit from 3000 miles away, a dad who gave me an itemized bill of how much money he'd have to spend on gas to see me for the first time in five years - but I feel like I'm really alone. I want to belong, I want to be a part of a group of people who will love me and be happy to have me be with them for decades, I want to get hugged and be able to love people back.
Instead I've got what I've got. I have to say that part of me thinks that with my abrasive personality, this is just what I deserve, that the relatives I have can't be bothered with me and that nobody else wants to make that kind of commitment to me voluntarily. God knows I haven't been able to make things any better than they are and no one can say I haven't been trying. It doesn't give me a lot of hope.