He got back in touch with me the way he usually does, unexpected. And because he comes back to me at the moments I least expect it I’ve grown wary of it when he does. Not that him being in my life has not made me grown observant, because I am observant by nature. But the fact that he does not get in touch with me unless he has a problem has kept me on my toes. And now that he has gotten back in touch with me after months of nonchalance towards my state of well being made me more than wonder what sort of trouble has he gotten himself into.
Rewind three years ago. Or was it two? I don’t really recall. All I remember was that he and his dirty little secret was revealed in a sensational way it was sort of like a scandal. After five years he finally admitted he was still in a relationship with his last girlfriend, they had an abortions (or was it abortions), and the girlfriend is currently pregnant with plans of suing him because he tried to break up with her. I got the phone call that had me without second thoughts buy a one way ticket to where he is and deal with a problem I didn’t create. And while he claims it’s over the mess he had created was way too much for him to clean up we had to step in and act like gangsters threatening and almost counter suing her family. Like a real sister, I took his side even if I didn’t want to. Like real sisters, me and Tanduay Girl had to step up for our brother even if I want him to own up to his own misconduct. And like real older sisters, we bashed the bully who tried to coerce my brother into unwanted marriage even if I want him to have the balls to be responsible and grow up. That’s how we’ve always been, the knights who saved our baby brother’s bad ass. That’s how we’ll always be, the disposable airbags that will save him at the point of painful impact.
I will lie if I say I don’t mind. In a small way I do. Or maybe a big way. I don’t know. All I know is that if he doesn’t talk to me then he is fine and dandy. And if he does talk to me he wants something like money, protection, a lie. And so forgive me if I dread talking to my brother, because as much he’s blood I seriously want to bang his head on granite just to make him feel how insensitive he is of his family. I don’t hate him, that’s the truth. But to say I love him, that is wishful thinking. But I do tell myself that... I love him. Because maybe I’ll eventually do. Because maybe I do, I just don’t feel it.
Jealousy was the only reason that came to my mind when I tried to analyze my aversion towards him. I was jealous of his gender. I was jealous that he had both our parents’ adoration. I was jealous that he had his life handed to him on a silver platter. Jealous that he had the best that my parents’ money can buy. Jealous that he can get away being bad so easily. Jealous that he can be stupid and my parents would be amused. All he had to do was be himself - mean, selfish, moody, arrogant - and he would still be accepted and loved. Then I ran away. I ran from all the negativity that I was plaguing me and tried to shape who I am and what I want to be. The next time I saw him the green eyed monster was no longer in me because I saw that despite his seemingly “blessed” life he will make humongous screw ups that will be hard to recover from. And without gloating I write now that I was right.
That was years ago. Now he says he’s in a better relationship, he says this woman is far far better than the crazy ex girlfriend who stabbed him with a pair of scissors, he says that he has introduced her to our father. And when he said the last part I knew why he is talking to me out of the blue. The Colonel is livid and my brother wants me to pick sides, he wants me to take his side again and protect him from the pain of my father’s wrath and the scathing words of my father’s pietistic judgmental belief. But it’s not going to happen. Not anymore.
It’s not that my brother deserves what is happening to him now neither is it because my father is right. But I do know that he has to be able to learn to fight for what he wants, for what he believes in, for what he thinks is right. And when he has fought for it and he ended up hurting because what he fought for is not good for him he still has to learn to clean up his own mess, stand up and move forward. Basically, he has to learn to grow up and be a man. In the real sense of the word.
Because he got away doing so many wrong things and he was given so many good things he is now paying the price, when he broke my parents’ hearts it doesn’t even seem possible to patch things up again. I should know well, I’ve been there and done that. He came to me for comfort and advice. I have no comfort to give. There is no easy way to take the brunt of pain once you broke someone’s trust. Once you break it you can only hope and pray that the person will trust you again. And winning that person or those people’s trust maybe be close to impossible, almost exasperating, and even if you deem yourself trustworthy again you may not still be or anymore to them. But if a person is worth it, if you tried, if you really cared about them then all the hardship of proving your worth, the discomfort of piecing the trust you’ve broken, and the shame of owning up to the heartache you’ve caused will be worth it again. I should know this well enough, because I’ve been there and done that too.
0 tried to make D happier:
Post a Comment