I can't do it anymore. They won. My parents--my sister--my niece--they win. I concede. They're right, I'm nothing but a lame, sorry, selfish, self-centered, egotistical, self-serving asshole who doesn't care about anyone but himself. I'm the little shit that should have been killed at birth, just like they've said all along. I'm the one that causes all the world's problems, I'm the one that tears families apart, and I'm the one that makes life miserable for everyone else to live.
For twenty years I've held off their assault. I've withstood their consistent barrage of insults and abuse. For twenty years I stood firm and held my ground against those that would tear me down. And for twenty years, I fought them. But tonight--May the 26th--marks the night they finally beat me. It marks the night that they finally tore through my shells and they caused me so much pain that it forced me to give up. May the 26th, the night I could fight no longer. I don't even feel like me anymore. I feel like a shell that shouldn't even exist. They did it, they won. They all formed a unified front and they all stabbed me in the back at once. I have no family left on my side. Not one single member of my family stands with me--I was alone in the fight, and they finally overwhelmed me.
May the 26th, the night my fight ended and my family won.
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