I hate my family.
Every year I visit them for the holidays, and they complain incessantly.
If I’ve done well in school, it’s not good enough.
If I’ve lost a substantial amount of weight, I could always lose more.
I don’t know anything about anything, even if I’m taking a degree on the subject.
No matter what I say, I’m wrong… even if I’m right.
They blame my girlfriend for “changing” me over the three years we’ve been dating, which is not the case. I’m sure my development as a person wouldn’t have been very different had Suzanne rejected me when I first asked her out.
They’re like children.
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