Yes, this is really Us. Although my costume is Superman, my face is JFK. Which not only dates me, but is something to Ponder Upon, whether you agree with the connotations or not.
Right around the time this picture was taken, my sister sexually abused me for the first time.
From that day, to the day in the early '70s when she threw me out of the recliner because SHE wanted to sit in it, to the day a couple of years later when she threw me off of the toilet because SHE wanted to shit in it (never mind that there was a perfectly serviceable bathroom just thirteen steps down) to the day just a few months ago when she sold the old house out from under me even though I was willed the right to live there for five years --
-- from that day to this, I cannot think of my sister without thinking: "I hate you, Claudia."
And yet --
-- today, for the first time, I thought of her, and thought, as always, "I hate you!"
-- and then thought, But I don't HAVE to hate you anymore. You don't even know my address or phone number, and if I have any say in it you never will. You are Out of My Life, for once and for all, forever.
You bitch. I never have to put up with your abuse, ever again.
THANK GOD FOR THAT.
Life is so much better without you in it.
And yet, it comes at such a cost.
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