Unsolvable

I don't know why hate is so strong. So deep, that people forget why they started to hate. A friend asked me why I thought it was best I didn't attend the party for my new nephew's arrival into the world. I could only say that they wouldn't have wanted me there. She and her husband. For whom do they blame for the death of their first and almost full-term child? And I couldn't explain this to my friend, because without context, it's a loaded sentence. Death. Blame. And it would take too long to explain - the situation, the cultural ties, the family background. And so I said I do mind. I don't want to talk about it. But it's better I didn't go - because I certainly wouldn't have been welcomed.

What is the source of this hate that perpetuates and lingers? I don't hate my sister. I dislike her husband, very much, because he spouts of love, friendship, forgiveness, and God, and yet, he is quite opposite of that. How could I not feel happiness for my sister who's always wanted to have children? Married for nearly a decade, she endured the gossip, the hush silence, the sneers of her in-laws, the shame that as a woman, a wife, she could not give birth to their son's children, to any children. And so I was elated when I heard through the grapevine, of her pregnancy. I did not know, however, the condition, the duress under which she carried her baby. No one told me, my parents. Not even my younger sister who is best friend with our older sister.

I feel sad whenever I see sisters or siblings get along. It pains me because I am alone. When I talked (and cried - though I didn't want to!) to friends about my "problems," one of the friends told me the following story.

I have an aunt and uncle who thinks the family is out to get them. And so they have a complexity that everyone gossips about them and that everyone hates them. But we don't. But no matter what we do, they continually assume and react to this thinking.

This got me thinking - is she telling me, indirectly, that I am causing the problems? That I am hallucinating the fact that none of my siblings actually like me? That I am, very much, the black sheep of my family, which also the black sheep of my father's family? That we are the ones, the source, of our own problems? In a way, I think she was suggesting that i explore this thought. But truly, I don't believe I am creating these problems. problems just don't suddenly occur, and certainly not, by one party. There has to be at least 2 to tango.

Nevertheless, I am sad when i think of this. I am sad and I try hard not to cry because crying doesn't help to solve anything. But then again, neither does thinking too hard about it. And I wonder, who will extend the olive branch? Who will give in? It's so complicated, that I cannot even begin to untangle the years.
I am only one person, and I feel as though I am at the end of my rope.