I made this blogging page just a few months after he was born and now that he's almost two I have something to blog about. I've always had a great interest in love even when it's not mine. Love is a wonderful thing. When someone loves something or someone you never want it go away. It becomes precious to you. And what happens when it's gone or pushed away or not wanted? You feel like a huge part of you was beat to bruises because you showed up on the wrong turf.
Of course, when a person brings up love you know they have a story for you about how they fell in love and most likely failed. This is just a failed attempt at love by a hopeless romantic.My brother and I never really got along when he graduated to middle school. He grew up and suddenly hanging around his younger sister wasn't priority of any sort. He'd never let me near his friends. For a long time I never even knew if he had friends since he kept such a distance between us. I grew angry toward him for not wanting me in his life or wanting to be apart of mine. He seemed embarrassed when people would realize we were related.
Eventually, we both graduated high school and he left for college and I stayed here for college. He came home for summer and announced he was dropping out to join the navy. He began to be apart of the family even more. He spoke to me and apologized for being a jerk. We grew closer and he left for basic training.
While he was gone I started talking to one of his really good friends so that I could learn more about my brother, like the things he didn't tell me. This friend was pretty nice, straight forward, cool. I honestly don't even know how it happened. I remember just his eyes when I think of him. That's all I could see. It was like being hypnotized. I would tell him how I felt and wouldn't know what was coming over me. He'd smile and kiss me and I'd feel his heartbeat. We'd talk about everything. We'd spend hours of the night just walking and listening to eachother. Music was how we'd connect with eachother. I fell in love with him. It was too much.
I remember him telling me it was wrong. We couldn't do this because if my brother had ever found out he wouldn't be happy with himself. My brother was more important to him than me. I was okay with that but it hurt. He said he would still see me though. We would talk online and I'd ask him to go see me and he'd reply with "maybe kid". Really, it was, "no". He slowly stopped talking to me and I never got to see him again and cut off any connection I had with him.
Now I can't listen to music the same way, it's hard for me to write without thinking about him, I look at things that he gave me or that I made inspired by him and it hurts. It sucks, I didn't plan to end up feeling that way. I thought I knew what love was and thought I could handle it way differently than I had. I believe in love, it's strong and I'm sure he may have felt something too. I'll always cherish our conversations and the sweet things he'd say to me. And maybe far into the future I'll see him again. Maybe he'll come find me.
Some part of me hopes I never have anything to do with him.
Another part of me hopes he's suffering too.
