I hear you. My brother was keeping most of my “stuff” in his garage because I had nowhere for it right after my divorce; I was living on friends’ couches and then in a furnished apartment.

I saw it all up for sale one day on Craigslist. All my furniture. The kids beds. And he just tossed my keepsake stuff in the garbage. Kids artwork. My poetry. Letters. Photo albums.

Just because he fucking hates me. Which he didn’t tell me until last August, after the stuff was gone. I mean, seriously? Why lie about THAT?!? I would have asked one of my friends to hang on to it.

He just said, “We didn’t have the room.”

Okay. Well of COURSE then the thing to do is unload it. Wouldn’t want to just let me move it.

I could have been a fine and dandy only child.

I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but I know I want it to be spelled right and punctuated correctly. I guess that’s something.

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