Far above the moon

I haven't decided if I'm relieved with happiness or sadness yet. I think it's mixed. Growing up I've known I'm different from them. Gradually slipping away what little relationship we had left. But now with a family of my own I see from the outside in that what happened and continues to occur is not "normal." The anger would fester and boil up inside me that my dreams would be consumed of actual blood and gore putting and end to them. That seeps out into my waking reality and I just can't do it anymore. So it's done and I'm still just trying to breathe. I want to talk about it, to rationalize the pain but no one really wants to listen. And I don't blame them. There's only two other people who can grasp the entirety of the pain we've been put through. Even still theirs are different perspective and outcomes as well.
C'est la vie.