Came home for the holidays, but my mom opened the door and said, “You weren’t invited — this is for family only.” I turned around without a word; minutes later, my sister texted, “Don’t take it personally — you know how you are.” I smiled, froze the joint account, canceled the utility payments, and cut off every card; by morning, my voicemail was full — and the group chat was on fire.

I still think about them sometimes, not with anger, but with distance, like people you see in old yearbooks.

Familiar, faded, and far behind.

I wasn’t their wallet.

I wasn’t their scapegoat.

I wasn’t the fixer or the disappointment or the emotionless problem child.

I was just Aaron.

And for the first time in my life, that was.