Sometimes I realize what a truly miserable person I am.  I'm an absentee sister and aunt and daughter.  The only person I regularly give the time of day is my best friend, and sometimes even that's stressful.

And I did it to myself, I know.  I isolated myself because it was easier than trying to repair the relationships I'd already destroyed.  And I sincerely want to begin fixing them, and I should, but sometimes admitting I'm wrong is terrible.  Especially for problems that are ten years old already.