The Apple That Fell Too Far From The Tree

They call it keeping up with the Jones's. I call it my great misfortune. There are days when I wish I could untangle myself from this web of lies my whole life has been entwined on. For the people who know us, we are happy. My father is the life of the party, charming and gregarious. His wife, obedient and dutiful stays at home to watch over the kids. And the kids, attractive, smart and well-behaved never get into trouble. They meet me, recognize my family name. Their eyes light up. I come from a wealthy family, good genes, good track record. They look at me and think, she'll do well. After all, the apple never falls far from the tree.

This is one of those days. I am torn. When you have lived with tragedy for so long in your life, it becomes the norm. Then you get tired of being miserable and angry all the time, so you find the ridiculous. You laugh until you run out of air. It's like your life has become this one big joke and you finally get it.

I am torn between anger and boredom. Nothing has changed. Everything is in its place. There's mom ever the martyr, hoping and praying things will get better. There's my sister who thinks she isn't good enough, my brother who is mad at the world. There's me who knows that someone else's child will always be better for you. Then there's you dad, the kid with the magnifying glass lighting up an ant hill.

I'm tired and bored. I know I will never be good enough for you. And I just don't give a fuck anymore. I can live without you. My life would be much much better without you. So why don't you save us all the trouble and get it over with?