Queen of Fucking Everything?

I got a birthday card from my brother today, a week late, but what can one expect from someone so wrapped up in his own plastic life?

The front of the card says simply: Queen of Fucking Everything
Inside: Happy Fucking Birthday

Am I the queen of fucking everything? For once, I got the feeling that Steven may be a bit envious of me, FINALLY, what I had hoped and wished for a million times over as a child, and I don't want it. I don't feel like the Queen of anything. Unless there is a magical land somewhere that promotes women to Queen status by virtue of studying her ass off and coming home to a messy house and horrible children who deserve to be hauled off to be eaten by the witch who lives in a house made of candy. Only in that land would I feel deserving of the title of Queen of Fucking Everything. I am the queen of nothing.

And again, whether meaning to or not, Steven has made me feel without. Without something that he has, something that he has always had that I have not. I'm not saying that he has everything, he doesn't. I know that much. But I don't have it either. Leave it to him to point that out. Thanks for making it glaringly clear, brother dear.

There you have it, the Have's and the Have Not's. I grew up as a Have Not, sister to the Grand Master of Have. I thought I was beyond it, I thought I had matured enough to think that it didn't matter. I thought that finally, by comparison, I Had more than Steven.
Now I realize that it doesn't matter what I have compared to what he has, and some days, it just doesn't feel like I have much.

I am the Queen of Fucking Nothing.
Thanks, Steven.
It's really not fair to him that I hate him sometimes. Ok, no, I don't hate him, I hate what he does to me simply by existing. I hate the affect he has on me, I hate that he has any affect on me. I hate that I'm not strong enough to stop being his little sister, even now.