When I dream and I see my dead grandparents (who were the only stable adults in my life and helped raise me when my own parents couldn't or wouldn't), it always comes off like they hate me. It hurts so much to know now that they're dead and have a birds I view of who I am they find me disgusting. The loss of passion and patience I used to have as a child, the depressive pain that I live with day to day, the failure of a man I am and will always be, the repping shit and secret hopes I have deep down about who I truly want to be.

It hurts to know that my bedrock and the only people I truly looked up to in life probably find me a waste of breath now. When the woman you relied on more than your own mother a lot of times says to you "ugh, why are YOU here" with such disdain the first time you see them after their passing, it's just so atomizing. I've never felt more alone in the world than I do now pushing 30 and realizing this lifetime is such an exercise in futility.

Maybe it was a blessing to have someone actually care about me and love me ostensibly for who I am instead of how much they can leverage me against each other like my parents or how they can feel a sense of superiority by being "better than me" like my old best friends used to. But it just stings all the more as I get older and I can see what an obvious farce that was. Why would anyone ever care about me, why would I ever deserve the love of another person.