Family is complicated.
I absolutely love my parents. Period. My siblings do not do too well with me, however. I have heard, as we all must have heard somewhere or sometime, that siblings often share a love-hate relationship between one another. I have friends who do have that sort of relationship with their siblings and by the end of the day, they sleep on it and they know that they really care for their siblings. I do not doubt myself too much when I say that the love part of that paired relationship is missing for me.
Sometimes their actions are too… idiotic, despicable and of utmost irrationality that I somehow wish that the story of my adoption was real. It’s unbelievable that the same blood would surge in our veins, the proverb of blood being thicker than water is ultimately negated and stripped of all its profoundness when related to me. Of course, I am not adopted but my different features and being the black sheep of the family provoked such a story.
I just don’t quite love them right now. Perhaps in the future.
I might sound contemptuous, cold and rather self-centered by saying this but I cannot offer them my love with the way they are right now.