What's sad is why I'm not even surprised.

I went out of my way to make sure they would be here for dinner. I cooked dinner, burning my palm with hot oil in the process. They barely ate. And not a single thank you was spoken. I'll include them as I cook the rest of this week and then they are on their own. I'm going to take care of me and they can go to Hell. I sit here, in my little room, crying. They don't care. I did not raise her like this. Our relationship is in tatters and I'm beginning to think it's too far gone to even begin to repair. I just have to take care of me and try not to let their behavior bother me. It's so hard, though.