Not like funny ha ha blocked, but Eugh I feel gross, blocked. The story is long and so I won’t burden you with the deets, but he’s not my favorite person. In fact, the thought of him makes me allergic. My acid refluxes and I start sneezing at shit I didn’t even know was in the air. My nose gets stuffy and my throat itches. I’m allergic to my family and I’m allergic to bullshit. Good thing I blocked him because I might have gone into anaphylactic shock.
You see, I may have communicated my disgust at his life. All of it. We have a history of me expecting too much, and him being a terrible person. Ok, that’s unfair. Our relationship is complicated.
We didn’t grow up together. Boarding schools. Different student homes. I tried to keep contact and maintain a relationship and he was more interested in girls and sports.
I tried supporting him and doing the things I felt sisters were supposed to do, but never got much in return. I’d call, he wouldn’t call me back. Rinse. Repeat.
As I aged, my resiliency for the taste of our cycle diminished. We stopped talking. My paternal grandmother was on her deathbed and I reached out after a few years to tell him he needed to see her. He drove down but was too late. Something about he and his wife forgot something at home and had to go back and get it. That doesn’t make sense to me. They should have kept going for everything but their newborn. Anything else, leave that shit like it fell off the wagon on the Oregon Trail.
She died before he got there. She longed for him for 14 years and died without seeing him again.
While there he did the whole, I-need-to-right-all-that’s-wrong-in-my-life-because-we-are-mortal-beings , bullshit.
Him: “I want to be back in your life”
Me: “No, you’re just saying that shit because you’re sad.”
Him: “I won’t fuck it up this time, I’ll be better”
Yada, yada, rinse, repeat, soak cycle.
Me: Fine, but this is it. Seriously. I can’t take this anymore. Last chance.
Fast forward a few months. We’d been texting regularly..meh, kinda regularly. He calls and says,
“Hey, they found a lump on grandmommy (our maternal grandmother’s) brain.
Me: “Ok. Um, do I need to fly there now? Is she okay? What’s going on?”
Him: “No, you don’t need to go, it’s okay. ”
Me: Ok. Lemme call you back later (I was at a Homecoming and couldn’t hear fo’ shit).
I call back later. No answer. I call again. No answer. He doesn’t pick up the phone, or text me back for two weeks. Finally, I reach out to my other family members and when they get back to me I find out she has died.
Yes, my grandmother was dead and my brother never told me.
I was done. I sent him a text message saying so (trust me I tried calling) — and that was it. He didn’t respond so I assumed that he was going to respect my decision. It’s been a year, maybe more I don’t know. Well, today I was looking at the “likes” on Instagram feed when I find out that he started following me 12 hours ago. He didn’t reach out to me in anyway. He just started following me.
He had a lot of time to say something and didn’t. I felt gross so I blocked him.
This blog address is in my bio so he’s probably read a bunch of my stuff and shared it with other family members I don’t care for. Whatever, I put it on the internet so I can’t control that.
What I can control is maintaining my relationships with the positive influences in my life. That feels good. Positivity feels very good.