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For The Love Of Owl

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For The Love Of Owl

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I thought you loved me…

When I was little my mom and dad always left me at my grandparents house.

Every weekend I would go out with my grandma, and we would have a great time together.

Every holiday we spent with them. Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving.

Even when they moved four hours away from us… We made the trip almost every weekend.

My grandma, well step grandma, always acted like she thought the best of me. We cooked, and cleaned together. She bought in to all my weird hobbies… like drawing, stamp and doll collecting.

She stood up for me when she thought my parents were paying more attention to my little brother than me.

It was all like that until one day she found her long lost daughter, whom she had put up for adoption at birth.

This woman, whom I refer to as my aunt, was around the same age as my mother. She had a husband, a daughter my age, and a son around my brother’s age.

The only thing different about this woman and her family, besides the fact that they never grew up with my grandparents, was that they had a strong Catholic background. They went to church Wednesday, Saturdays, and Sundays.

I grew up in a catholic school, even though my parents didn’t force me into the religion. So when she told my mother that this woman’s daughter would do better than me because of their religion… I was a little confused…

Now I’m 20 years old, and although I’m very quirky… I go to school. I want to be better. And I feel I have matured.

However, my grandma has grown distant from me. Once my family and I moved to Florida, 9 hours away, she believed in me less and less.

It pains me to think my grandma dislikes me..She tells my mom that strangers are more mature than me. That I need to grow up. That I am a child.

I go to work, and soon I will pay my own bills… I know I argue with my brother, and I have a quick temper… but I try my best to show her that I am more than that.

Tonight I helped my mothers twin sister, who is really sick, by making her dinner… my grandma watched me… She thanked me for helping. And that made me really happy. She acknowledged me.

It’s been 2 years since I’ve visited my grandparents. I’ve been here a week… I’ve tried to show her I’ve grown… And I thought she thought I did… but she told my mom I’m immature tonight….

I don’t know why it hurts so bad… I don’t know why I’m crying so much. I don’t know why I have to prove myself to her… I don’t know why she dislikes me so much, or what she wants from me…

I’ve had two jobs, within the past 4 years… and she’s asked my mom to have me quit so I can visit them more… but isn’t that immature?…

She fakes a smile when I talk to her… She congratulates me with empty compliments. I know it all to well, because… well… she helped raise me… I don’t know when the meaningful hugs stopped… And I miss, terribly, the movie marathons, and cookie making, times we spent together…

I just wish she would see me for me… and not the immature imbecile she thinks I am…

I’ve only been here a week… And the whole time I have felt her give off this vibe around me… Like the vibe I give off when my brother keeps talking to me about stuff I don’t like nor care about…

I just want to go home…. I just want to tell my boss to never let me go on vacation to this place again…

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