Now, before we go any further, let's make one thing crystal clear; My family is awesome on a level you can't even fathom. They have been the biggest, strongest influence in my life, and the majority of my good traits came from them. They are my be all to end all, my end and my (literal) beginning, and, yes, all of me loves all of them. However, the same cannot be said the other way around:
Wait. That didn't come out right. Of course my family loves me as much as I love them, however, I'm not sure they like me. Oh, they like the idea of me, just not the actual me.
When I was four I was a cat for a week; I slept in a cat bed (on the floor) and lapped milk from a saucer. When I was eleven I had my Quints dolls christened in church. My mom made christening gowns and we had an actual party! When I was 15 there was a girl in my history class who seemed to find hilarious to antagonize me on a daily basis. I didn't find it nearly as funny. So I sent her anonymous letters (color coded for each day of the week) and made her think she was being stalked. After two months, she changed schools, thus ending by problem.
My point is, I've always been a bit off, and I thought my family accepted me as I am but, apparently They. Do. Not. Since I moved home they have been extremely supportive, of me being a lot less like me and a lot more like them. Apparently I am incapable of dressing myself, thinking for myself, and I talk too much (okay, they kinda have a point with this one). Also, I overreact and am embarrassment to them.
Despite all this my family and I are extremely close and I love that we are, I think that's our best quality....And I can wait till I am able to express that love from a nearby (ish) zip code.
And where might that be you ask? No idea, but I do know that when I get there, I am putting on a tiara, and never taking it off!
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