� I don't mean to tear... you just rip easily. � 2006-01-16 � 8:45 p.m. �
Last week I spoke to my brother for ages... and for the longest I think we've ever spoke in our lives.
I love my brother... but he and I can't talk... we don't talk... and a lot of that is pent up from years of unsettled emotion. I'm honest with him, when others aren't... and he often can't deal with the fire I'm willing spit in his face when he needs it.
He loves me. He'd protect me from anything... has proven that even, but he sees me the snob. He thinks I only follow the rules... that I've never done any wrong in my life and I'm quick to judge him because he has. He resents that I'm a Daddy's girl and he isn't a Daddy's boy... and growing up in the same house was sometimes difficult. In our teens we said little to one another... from when I was 10 until I was 16. It was the rule in our home... if we couldn't speak without a fight, then please don't speak.
Thursday we spoke... and for the first time, I realized I do sometimes attack him.... I asked him how his girlfriend is doing...
"Alright, I guess, I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"Well she's moody. She's a typical moody French girl."
"That's nice, Hun. You never have anything nice to say about her."
"Well she's either hyper or bitchy, what's there to say?"
"I don't know. "She makes me happy." "I'm glad to have her." "I can't wait for you to meet her, Manda, you'll love her." Maybe?"
"Well you probably won't love her, and if you're asking if I'm going to marry her, then no, I never will."
Yes and so it needed to be said.
"So what in the fuck are you doing? You're almost 30. Do you have a goal in life or do you plan on just sailing on the luck you don't have?"
And yes... there I went again... but I didn't apologize, because if I didn't say it, who would?
He wasn't even angry at me... and that made it worse... I think he's used to me being this way toward him... and when I figured that out last week, my heart sank. I am the bitch to him, he's always thought I've been.
I just don't understand him... and by the same respect I do. His life has been lived in the shadow of tragedy... I feel like the only one who doesn't still tip-toe around him for it.
He does everything for the risk... or for the comfort... and nothing for the logic... nothing for what's best.
I worry... I guess... it just doesn't come out as worry... it comes out as his little sister tearing him down - once again.
Maybe this week I should phone him and say "I'm proud of you... and I love you no matter what."
I don't mean to tear him down... I only wish the rest of my family would help him see sense... help him see worth... and not allow him to wallow in a life he can't bring back.
I want him to be happy. I want him to live.
� previous � next � comments � diaryland � old �