Burn some things

Oh how I wish I didn’t care that my oldest sister just came west to visit my other sister (we live in the same town) and didn’t contact me.
I wish I didn’t care that she also went to see my daughter and grandchildren.
I wish I didn’t care that there have been trips planned that excluded me.
I wish I didn’t care that we don’t talk or text ever, not on birthdays or holidays, never.
If I didn’t care, maybe the hurt would go away.

I wish I didn’t care that they think my ex-husband is the greatest thing since slice bread.  That they think I’m terrible for breaking up our marriage and put my daughter through a divorce. I stayed with him much longer than I should have, because I didn’t want to break up our family. They don’t know what went on behind closed doors. They don’t want to hear ugly stories, try to understand, it’s easier to just pretend I don’t exist.

Tonight I listened to Moth Radio, rooted in the past. Inspired by Craig Mangnum
and his story of breaking away from the Morman church, I thinks it’s time to burn some things.

Thanks for reading. It’s not always flowers and butterflies.