About my parents... I don't know what to say. Sure, they were caring, and they loved me, but sometimes I couldn't help but feel hollow at their love and care.
As genuine as they seemed, I feared they weren't that genuine when they treasured me because if they were, they wouldn't have stayed silent while my elder brother harassed me and called it a friendly competition between brothers.
I know they saw it all. I know they saw how much I was hurt by his 'pranks' and yet, they let it slide with a smile, not even giving him a pat on his wrist.
It was either they genuinely didn't think I was hurting, or they loved my older brother more than me, enough so that they could overlook the hurt he was causing me.
They would give me what I wanted but if my brother said he wanted it, they would take it from me and give it to him. He did that a lot, exerting his dominance over me and showing me how powerless and less loved I was compared to him.
