Day 3 of The Scintilla Project.

Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind. Write about a time when you taught someone a lesson you didn’t want to teach.
This lesson is still waiting on an outcome, though I don't think I will ever see how it turns out. I highly doubt there will be a lesson learned in the end and I've come to terms with it. I've realized you can't always teach someone a lesson, especially if they're not willing to learn and don't understand why you're doing what you are doing. I haven't spoken to my parents in almost a year, something I never thought would happen. My mother and I had a very close-knit relationship and we were like best friends before I moved to El Paso. I've always been a mamma's boy. I remember as a child crying and not wanting to go to school because that meant leaving her home alone. I hated doing that. I hated spending time away from her, I didn't feel safe and I was afraid something would happen to her, my childish mind racing over the thought of coming home and finding out she was gone. Now that I think of it, I was being ridiculous. My brain wasn't developed enough to understand I was just going to school for a few hours and she'd be perfectly safe and sound when I returned.  My father and I? Pft. We were never close and we constantly argued over anything and everything. When I look back and re-open those memories of him, they're never good. They're tainted and sad memories that I have to look back on. Financially, he's been there for me and my siblings whenever we needed, but always reminding us how unappreciative we were. Emotionally, no. We were never an open family, if I was dealing with an issue, he was the very last person to go to if I needed someone to talk to. He constantly thought we owed him the world for letting us live in his house and if we didn't appreciate it, the door was always there.  After moving to Texas, I called my mom a few times and she would call me to see how things were going. The conversation always taking a turn and coming back to her and how other family members didn't appreciate my father and her. See, my parents thought everyone was out to get them, that the family owed them something and would never get it. I do agree my parents have done a lot for some family members, but holding grudges over them for not kissing their feet or giving them constant praise was never going to happen and they don't realize that, even to this day.  A few weeks after moving here, my father sent me a text saying he loved me. Something we never said to one another. If my parents said it, they were drunk. I politely said it back to him, knowing the reason for his random text. That was the last time I talked to him. I remember last June before work I tried calling my mother, twice. No answer. I figured she'd just call me later and see what was up. I had time to kill before work and figured I would check in. 
No return call.
No texts making sure everything was okay.Nothing.
And that was the last time I've tried to establish a connection with her or my father.
After a few days, I told myself I would just see if she was busy or wait for her call. I'm still waiting to this day. After awhile I felt angry and wondered what I had done. Neither of them have talked to my oldest sister or her children for years and it was over some petty bullshit. Neither of them have talked to my other sister, either. They did send her a birthday card, though. So, on December 5th and days after, I checked the mail to see if they remembered to send me a birthday card, maybe I could establish a relationship again after. Nothing. So, I told myself I would write them off. I wouldn't call. I wouldn't text. Nothing. Why should I? I mean, they're my parents and I'm the child. Why do I have to be the one constantly trying to make a relationship happen or keep in contact with them if they weren't going to do the same. I told myself if they truly cared or wanted to stay in my life, they would make a little effort. The thing that really gets to me though, even to this day, is when I left their home, I was in a pretty bad state of mind. I was going through a breakup and (they privately spoke to my sister) they thought I was going to kill myself. They were "worried" I would do something drastic, but they never came to me. Never talked to me about my problems or even cared to check on me. It hurts. I thought out of all the people in the world, my parents would kick into parent-mode and pick me back up. Maybe I was just being naive, I mean.. I'm 21, maybe I need to do this on my own? Maybe I shouldn't of counted on them more than I did.  So, we still haven't spoken to this day and I refuse to be the first to break. Call me childish or an asshole, but they've done this with my other sisters and with more than just their children. They feel that my whole family owes them and they refuse to talk to them until the family comes crawling to them and begging them for forgiveness. Like I said, my parents feel like the world owes them.  I'm just at a point right now in my life where I feel like, if you want to be in my life, you need to make an effort. You need to let the other person know you want to keep in touch and you want to be there for them.
My actions aren't to be cruel, they're not some angsty-teenage reaction to them telling me I'm grounded. I feel like it's a legitimate reason and I just hope that one day they realize what they've done.