Victory is in sight! What is that? Is that... fuck.

Today, my parent's other juvenile offspring arrived from binge-drinking state college.

She left me messages while crying. Called me while crying. It goes on.

I was at the family after dark eating ritual known as dinner. I actually was capable of expressing my anarcho-political ideals and premises of my radical thoughts. I, for once, was outspoken. No one disagreed with what I said, and I finally felt, that for the first time, I was respected in my family.

Sadly, feelings of accomplishment don't last long for Meidinger.

My sibling mentioned something I had long forgotten about. A chance to raise my academic percentage in a sect of education I was struggling in. My father became vehement. Now he is disappointed that I am not doing what he tells me. Foma.

He told me this:
"Your last article was about getting out and trying new things, and you did the opposite."

I wanted to say 'That's not entirely true.' Words, however, faltered in my throat.

"You don't really have much of a social life."

I wanted to say 'Really? I take offense to that.'
I was so close to standing up to my father. I was going to prove a point for the first time. I was ready.

Unfortunately, I was cut off by these words.

"I'm being completely serious about that." 

There's never a lower point in my life where the only parent capable of speaking insults you without batting an eye. The words felt like studs on a whip. I felt impaled.

What can I say?

"I'm sorry that you're a horrible parent and you raised me to not speak against or for anything?"
"I'm sorry I'm such a fuck up and that you have every right to be disappointed in me."
"I'm sorry you've had poor execution with all the promises you made me, so I'll do the same."

So many things I wish I could have said, so many ways to redeem myself. Such hesitation.