Finally...alone.

Not!

With the heat comes the flies and the mosquitoes and, if I'm not swatting them away, I'm fanning myself to exhaustion under the summer sun. Still, I've preferred their bites and buzzing over the yippity-yaks of the more genetically related.

But things seemed to be finally looking up -- if not happier, than I can at least breath more. [B]um is finally moving out! Hooray!

Whoa, though. Don't celebrate too much. Of course, given the type of person that [B]um is, he's not moving out on his own. Nope. He complained constantly, but he didn't even bothered to help in the search or pay for the expenses. Instead, to make things easier, another fam-ber decided to be the peacekeeper and take him with her when she moved into an apartment of her own.

Is she happy to do it? Obvious answer is a negative. Near to retirement, she wanted to start saving and enjoy her life more in her own independent way. As if that will now happen. Disappointed? Yes. Angry? Yes, and much, much more.

Now, most sensible beings may comprehend the sacrifices that others may be making to help one out of his long slump. Begin with a word of thank you. Or small gestures of gratitude and/or assistance. Oh, that seems too much.

Even during the moving period, I am horrified to witness that [B]um only concentrated on taking care of his belongings. Forget about the old lady with her backache and the fact that she could have used some help. How many times did she request that [B]um help her move the microwave and the television set?! Not enough, since she had to come back to do it herself. Oy, the pain afterwards that an aging body experiences...

And given the continued state of "I'm not speaking to you and I don't want to look at you" that emanates from [B]um, don't even both offering any other personal advice.

So the rest of us do what we can, even to the point of sadly trying to erase his presence from our lives. Unfair and regrettable? Absolutely.

Will it dawn on him that the old lady will croak one day? Again, absolutely. But does he have the human sense and means to do anything after that? Absolutely not. I cringe with weariness thinking of that impending day. One tries to save those they can, but I am ready to release his hand for good.

About time, heh?!

Pssst! I forgot to mention one more thing. You know how [B]um likes to get attention by throwing tantrums. Well, in recent months, he had been knocking something against the walls to make the rest of the inhabitants uncomfortable. Likely throwing a tennis ball or something, we thought.

Not even close.

That bastard was punching holes in the walls with a hammer! In addition to those he made from a prior episode of bout. (Relegated to the basement, he mentioned that he was expressing his discontent of being isolated in the lower living realm.) Uh, because people probably wish you dead, my thought processes.

So, not only does he leave my house with a free pass to pester and mooch off of someone else, I'm left with the very expensive ordeal of fixing up the walls that looks like Swiss cheese! And, yes, I said walls with an -s at the end, as in more than one, two, or three. Just keep counting.

And all around me, I hear the psychologists and psychiatrists and wannabe-know-it-all's insisting that I should have simply cut him off from the very beginning. But, you know what? The battle of mixed emotions that arise in trying to resolve such conflicts will always have you in a frenzy...especially when I don't see myself as the source of his problems while, simultaneously, others try to make it my problem.

And you wondered why it took so long for me to get rid of [B]um.

Oh, well. As we crack our knuckles with satisfaction, we hope that this is the end.

Wait, was that him coming through the door? Why is he back? We thought he hated this place and hated us!

What?! The washing machine is broken at the new apartment? And he needs to do his laundry? Oh, right, he can't be looking like a bum.

Time to change the locks on this place.