Family quarrels are bitter things. They don't go according to any rules. They're not like aches or wounds, they're more like splits in the skin that won't heal because there's not enough material.

The wounds that never quite close

Family fights hit differently than other conflicts because there's nowhere to truly escape them. You can't quit your family job or block them on social media and mean it. That permanence means family arguments fester in a way that arguments with friends or colleagues don't. The wounds stay raw because you're forced back into proximity with the person who hurt you, again and again, at holidays and milestones and regular Sundays.

What makes Fitzgerald's observation so sharp is that image of a split that won't heal. Most wounds eventually close up—time and distance help. But family rifts often can't fully mend because there's genuinely not enough common ground to bridge the gap. Maybe you have fundamentally different values, or you've accumulated too many hurts, or you're just too different as people. You're stuck in an awkward half-state: not enemies exactly, but not quite reconciled either. You text on birthdays. You're polite at dinner. The fracture remains.

This is why family estrangement can feel lonelier than a clean break. There's no resolution, just a persistent ache that gets worse when you're reminded they're still your family.