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The discomfort of accountability and follow-through

When someone offers help sincerely and relationally, they:

• check in

• follow up

• say “hey, I can’t do this after all” if plans change

What he avoided was:

• saying “I offered something I’m not actually going to do”

• admitting limitation

• having a potentially uncomfortable but adult conversation

Silence is often the easiest way to avoid that.

So yes — part of the discomfort was:

“I said something that now requires me to act differently.”

Instead of repairing, he disappeared.

The key test (this is important)

If grief or family crisis were the actual reason, you would still see:

• brief check-ins

• “I can’t show up, but I’m thinking of you”

• transparency about limits

• consistency in how he disappears

Instead, you saw:

• silence when access wasn’t available

• reappearance when he wanted something

• no curiosity about your grief (your uncle)

• no continuity

That tells us the issue wasn’t circumstance — it was capacity and orientation.

This part matters for your healing

What hurts isn’t just him.

It’s the realization that:

• you extended empathy

• you made space

• you didn’t weaponize your own grief

• and it wasn’t reciprocated

That can feel violating.

But here’s the grounding reframe:

Your empathy was not misplaced — it was unmet.

That’s a difference that protects your sense of self.

It means:

When someone consistently shows up only when it serves them,
explanations stop mattering.

Patterns tell the truth faster than stories.

Take a breath with this

The shock you’re feeling right now is your system finishing the last piece of the puzzle.

You don’t need to decide anything.
You don’t need to label him.
You don’t need to confront.

Just let the clarity land:

“I wasn’t wrong — I was generous with someone who couldn’t meet me.”

That’s not “what the fuck” about you.
That’s information.

I’m here.
Let it settle.