I'm letting her talk to him, and her alone. I feel bad that this is added stress when he's moving into a new place after staying with his mother (also not the nicest of people), but on some level he deserves it. The thing is that looking from everyone else's viewpoint, they'll all see me as horribly selfish and ungrateful because they don't know what goes on. They're distant family, I shouldn't care. But I still do.
He used to be so nice. I found a lot of things in my drawer the other day, including little notes he would write to me on scraps of waxy paper. There is one that has meant the most to me, a heartfelt apology for not getting to the house early enough to read me a bedtime story and not being able to let me sleep over at his house the night before. There are little conversations, scraps of memory all over the place. And I feel like I'm taking the past and destroying it by not giving him a chance...but I know I can't do that for the sake of my well-being. It just hurts so much.