You're the reason I'm so miserable.
You lived with us my whole life in this tiny house in an even tinier town, and you spent my childhood teaching Daisy to be a world champion pokemon groomer. Once she won, I always thought you'd finally direct your attention towards me and help me become a champ too, but as soon as this new kid moves in next door, it's like you forgot my name completely.
All my life, I was looking forward to the day I could finally become a pokemon trainer. I figured I'd get first pick of the family pokemon that would get passed down, and when I showed up to get mine, there's that kid you suddenly decided is your favorite. And you told me the kid got to pick first! That's when I realized that you had put me in an impossible situation: your pokemon were like rock-paper-scissors, so no matter what the kid picked, I had to choose whether I'd lose every battle and be labeled a bad pokemon trainer or win every battle and be labeled a try-hard. I never wanted to be a rival, I just wanted to become a great pokemon trainer.
"Whatever," I thought, "if I'm going to be labeled a try-hard anyway, then at least I'll make sure not to live in the shadow of my grandpa's new adopted fave." I set out ahead of the kid and had to learn when and how to use each of the items I found on the road along the way. At one point I learned that you, someone who always asserted you don't know how to use a phone, were texting with this kid whenever there was an item that would've been wasted or useless that they were thinking of using. The kid had their hand held the whole way.
So I made it my mission to become the pokemon champ before this kid could. Everywhere they went, I tried to stay a step ahead. And I did it. I managed to become the champion of the Elite Four. And I even called my you to tell you the news, but it went to voicemail.
Days went by, and I heard nothing from you, and the minute that kid showed up and beat me, in you walked. And you claimed that you "came as soon as I heard the news" and then lectured me on some BS like "I don't love my pokemon enough" like this kid does.
Where were you when I had to bury my Raticate in Lavender Town, old man? You don't even know me. You made my life hell. I love my pokemon, and I AM a world champ. And you know what? I did it without your help. I did it all on my own.
I'm done being miserable. I want you out of my life, so I can focus on being a great trainer. Maybe I'll go become a gym leader.
Smell ya later, gramps
Gary
