Granny Weatherwax always held that you ought to count up to ten before losing your temper. No-one knew why, because the only effect of this was to build up the pressure and make the ensuing explosion a whole lot worse.

I actually waited a good twelve hours before ranting. I should probably have waited twelve months.The ensuing explosion might have been a lot worse, or there might have been no explosion at all.

GAH!
I can't quit.
It's the one thing I cannot bring myself to do. I wish I could be strong and walk out and not look back and pretend I don't give a damn.
But I can't.
Mostly it's because of the memories. Because at the end of the day I'd still do it all over again, if only for the memories.
I'll still get upset, every once in a while. And then I'll come back to this space and rave and rant and pretend I hate everything that's happening.
But you'll know and I'll know and the big guy up there will know that it's all a lie.
Because I love you too much to forget you.
Because you're not just a cool address to spend time at or a good name to have on my cv.
Because you are home and family and everything else in between dammit.
Because every family has its black sheep and yours are the losers and wankers and soulless fence-sitting morons who will never take a stand because they're too afraid.
But most of all because you are my responsibility and I will not walk away.