More Issues Pt 2

I’m hurting today. 

More than normal whenever an issue comes up. 

I could attribute it to my own grandmother’s recent death, but then I have to remember that she and I were never that close to begin with and as often a satellite relative that popped in and out of my life at random times. 
She had been suffering from Alzheimer’s for the past five years and the last time I saw here was maybe 2-3 years ago when I went with my dad to visit her before she seriously started to decline. I visited with her a little, but nothing beyond polite conversation despite her rather brash demeanor. I will remember her as being honest and the one that called out my gender ID from when I was 8 years old. “You should have been born a boy!” That will forever remain in my memory, so I guess maybe I’m sad about that but really, I can’t say that I feel much of anything.  

What’s more, guess what happened again. You guessed it.  
Last night after flying back into the city from the funeral, my SO picked me up and took me back to his place so I could get my things. On the phone earlier before my flight, he mentioned he had a meeting later that day that he had to get to right after he picked me up. That’s fine. I even told him that if picking me up was going to interfere, then I could figure out another way. But he was insistent. 
So I got whatever things I left there before I left (i.e. laundry), and left so he could go. I must have said at least 3 different times, “I’ll see you later tonight,” to which he could have clarified otherwise. He agreed with that and we departed. 

THREE. HOURS. LATER….. 

It’s getting late, I’m exhausted. I text him, “hey are we still meeting tonight?” 
I get in the shower just to give me something to do while I wait for his response (what else is new), and I get this response: “No, after this I’m gonna be exhausted and crash immediately after. No fun. I’m sorry.”
Oh are you? Are you really? Because this is getting ridiculous how I expect that we’re going to be hanging out, make plans, and then you break them. I’m at the end of my rope here. I reply, “Damn, I was really hoping.”
His response? “I know. I’m sorry.”
No, no you’re not. I’m now pissed and — I really hate to admit this — I start crying. I hate crying. I hate it. I never even bothered to respond to such a weak ass apology and your repeat behavior really had me wondering what I’m even doing here. I don’t feel respected. I don’t feel like you think about my own feelings, and I really don’t think that you even give a damn about anyone but yourself. This is now the 4TH GODDAMN TIME this has happened. And *THIS* is the first time I even get some semblance of an apology?!? No, you know what, fuck this. Do you even understand what it fucking means to be in a relationship? It means you don’t lead the other person on thinking and expecting one thing and then let them down the next! That’s what that fucking means! It means letting me know early on *NOT* to expect your company despite my saying THREE different times and you even agreeing with it!
Look, I understand that things happen. I understand that you have a life. I’m not trying to document your whereabouts at every goddamn moment. I just don’t want to be led to believe one thing and then the opposite is true. I honestly don’t care where you are or what you’re doing: I just want you to follow through. When you say that we’re gonna hang out, we hang out. That’s it. That’s all. I’m asking you to follow through, think about your words and your decisions before making an empty promise to me. I take those seriously. I take you seriously, so why do you not bother to do the same for me? The least you could do is take 10 seconds, send me a text saying, “Hey I won’t be able to see you tonight after all. This meeting is going really well and bla bla bla” I don’t even care about the last part. I don’t want to be led on only to be dropped off later. I know your work is important to you. I’m not going to do anything to stand in the way of that. But your flagrant disregard for my own self makes me wonder if this is even what you want. You tell me you love me and fill sweet words in my ear, but all I hear is an empty yet lovely song. Empty. Meaningless. Are words so important to you? Then prove it. Use your words to communicate to me. Use your lovely artistry to convey to me not to expect you. Use your efforts to let me know in whatever flowery language you speak to speak to me about what’s happening. 
Don’t use your words to fill my heart with nothing but hot air. Don’t put this leash around my neck just to chain me up in the backyard and forget about me. 
Your words say one thing while your actions indicate another. 

I may be overreacting to this because of my grandmother’s death, but really I think what’s hitting me more is the sadness of my father (his mother was the one that died). My dad has not had an easy life, and he sacrificed a lot for us kids while growing up. Sure, he wasn’t around much, but he was trying to give us a life that he didn’t have. I understand that and was never mad at him for doing so. Which is why it pains me to see that even though his mother was… a character, to say the least, he still had to watch his mother deteriorate and then die. That saddens me more than her actual death. The only reason why I even went to that funeral was to be with my father. He pretends that he’s alright, but beneath that stern face I know he’s hurting. I want to help him in any way I can, because he’s my father who’s done so much for me, but here I am… empty… unable to offer anything to console my own father. What good is it — what good am I — when I can’t even offer you anything where you have given me everything? 
Why is it I feel as though I offer nothing? To anyone? To my dad, to my SO (maybe that’s why he’s doing the things he’s doing)…? What do I bring to this table? I feel as though I show up empty handed all the time, and no one takes me seriously. I’m really trying to find my place here, I’m trying to figure out what I can offer, but really, I’m drawing a blank. I still feel jealousy. I still feel fear. I still feel insecure (a lot).

Do I really offer nothing? Then what am I doing alive? 

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