My parents love him more than me. They always have, and always will. And A isn’t a substitution for that care, for that love. She tries to be and talks about it as if it’s the solution but let’s be realistic here. I see her once a week, now once every other week, for 1.5 hours. It’s ridiculous. It’s stupid to put my trust and anything else really, in her.
It hurts. It hurts tonight. And knowing I can’t even reach out to A hurts more. And knowing that my husband is chronically ill and unable to support me is shit too. Because I have to support him.
It’s fine. It’s all fine. It’s always been fine. It will always be fine.
But let’s not pretend that the fact I come second is ever going to change.