And in the end it didnt matter. All that work. All that time spent dedicated to them so that they wouldnt have to suffer one day. Its like it never mattered if I worked hard or if I didnt work hard. It didnt matter. It was all the same. they treated me like i never had a voice to begin with. I just had to take care of them when they got older that is all I did. That was all of my responsibility.
I dont understand him either. I dont particularly miss him not being in the house. He was always moody and occasionally helped around the house. There was no space in my bed. He complains that he doesnt have a place to sleep in. He complains that the chinches bite him but that is where pride takes you. Its not impossible to live in my house. He missed his friends and his privacy. I missed the me time. Those r things that just happen and make or break a relationship.
As for my parents they could make their life simpler ifthey didnt get so involved with other peoples lives