Well That Didn't Work

THE POWERS THAT BE
I don't know who I was writing this to, really. I don't believe God exists, but I suppose now I understand why people feel the need to believe he does. I've never really asked "why me?" before, but...

"To the powers that be:

I want to know what I've done to deserve any of this. I'm a good person; I'm a more caring, outgoing, generous person than most, so tell me: what on earth could I have possibly done to deserve the life I have?

I don't like being sick. I don't like having to worry about when my grandmother's next suicide attempt will be. I don't like having to watch my mother battle cancer. I don't like the unchangeable relationship I have with my father. I don't like having to struggle for money. I didn't like moving five times. I didn't like finally be given something good and only to have it ripped out of my hands…I finally had something worth living for, I had hope.

Why is the desire to be nice to people, to take care of others so deeply ingrained in my head if I was never expected to get anything in return? Why am I intelligent and have no passion with which to apply it? Why do I have so much love to give and neither someone to give it to or someone to return it? Why do I live in such constant pain?

What did I do to deserve this? TELL ME! WHAT THE HELL DID I DO?"

Its completely illogical, a letter to no one asking unanswerable questions. I'm just frustrated. I'm not letting any of this bother me anymore, I'm not; still...every once in a while, you just need to bitch and moan.

I'll explain later.
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