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Mar. 27th, 2006 08:57 pmIt's over.
The eldest brother is out of our lives. Again and, I assume this time, for good. I sat at the kitchen table and clenched my little hands into tight fists, nails digging bloody half-circles into my palms, against a roaring tide of rage as he called Middle Brother a fuck-up and and unjustly accused him of being a liar. So many times, I opened my mouth, in an attempt to shut things down, but something in the back of my head caused it to snap shut again without voicing any of my objections.. Middle Brother was standing his ground and holding his own. This was his fight and I was only peripherally involved, if that at all.
I had expectations of this extending into the wee hours of the night, like the last fight did. I continually stole glances at the clock, watching the minutes tick slowly by and refusing to leave the apartment because I feared for leaving them alone together. The Engineer wouldn't leave either, much to my discomfort. One's family, on a good day and in a normal group, can be slightly embarassing. My fucked-up family excels at embarassment because it seems as if they become even more insane and puerile whilst in the public eye.
At eight forty-five, I rubbed the bridge of my nose and lit a cigarette. Thought to myself that if this shit wasn't over by nine-fifteen, I was going to bust out a referee flag and call the match. Then, at nine o'clock, it screeched to a halt when I was barely paying attention. Before I knew it, the words, "...and I want you to leave. Now." came out of Middle Brother's mouth and Eldest Brother was being ushered towards the door with a slam and the locks being snapped into place. I heard him in the hallway, profanity and self-righteousness being spit at the door.
And then he was gone.
And I'm bothered by this more than I've been realizing. I spoke of it a small bit last night to the Engineer, after Middle Brother had finally gone to bed. That my entire life, all I ever wanted was one of those families who, you know, speak to each other.
I know better than to expect normalcy, no one gets to ride that particular free bus, but I'd like a sembalence of closeness, at the very least. I wanted a family that got together at the holidays. I wanted a family that called one another, even if it was to shriek at angry hyper-sonic levels once in a while. I wanted a family that could be in the same room, at the same time, and not have too many uncomfortable silences. I wanted a family that gathered for more than just funerals.
Apparently, this was just a bit too much to ask. I knew it was hopeless, this obscene wanting of mine, but it was there all the same. And when our mother died, I had nurtured a small and fervant hope that maybe this time, the three of us could be our own unit. That we would band together in the face of our grief and, somehow, work things out between us. That, at the very least, I could have a small tribe of people who shared blood with me. Other than my father, my brothers had been the only part of the family to associate with me. One side are too remote and removed from my upbringing to really give a damn about me or mine, the other side just plain want nothing to do with us for reasons not of our making.
Middle Brother and I had basically dropped any animosity towards Eldest Brother, in a good faith effort of extending the olive branch. But, it looks as if he just didn't give a damn about either of us. Ever. As always, it's about him. His pain. His shitty upbringing. How people treated him. Who has done him wrong. How he's put himself so out there for everyone else. And how no one has ever done the same for him.
We are both so, so tired of it all. And it hurts like fucking hell to shut him out of our lives once again. Only this time, it's not his choice like it was before, but ours. My emotions are warring in my head; a huge and swirling mass of sadness, anger, pain, disappointment, disgust and relief. I can't sort through them all without turning into a puddlemess. This hurts. And the hurt pisses me the fuck off. Why should I be hurt that a fucking junkie turned his back on us? Why should I be unhappy that someone of that low character wants nothing to do with Middle Brother and I? Why do I care? What difference does it make, honestly?
I don't want that sort of person in my life, so why am I so fucking upset over this?
Above all else and for the first time since she died in 2004, I am straight-up glad that my mother is dead. She didn't have to witness the filth spewing from Elder's Brother's mouth at Middle Brother and she also doesn't have to deal with the semi-unrelated VC Andrews-sized scandal I received confirmation of last night after all of this or any of its predicted and expected fallout.
All of this would have broken her heart, much as it's coming close to breaking mine.
"I'm sorry." I said to Middle Brother last night, after the smoke and debris began to settle.
"Don't be. What're you sorry for?"
"I'm sorry because I know you wanted this work. And because I wanted this to work. And it didn't."
He ducked his head and wiped his face, as is his habit whenever he doesn't want to show any emotion.
Throughout today and last night before, I was wobbling on the knife-edge of hilarity. Maybe more like hysteria if you look at it a bit closer, but I just wasn't noticing the difference then.
Make your bed and now lie,
just like you always do.
You can fake it for the papers,
but I'm onto you.
I'm onto you.
I'm onto you.
I'm onto you.
I'm onto you.
The eldest brother is out of our lives. Again and, I assume this time, for good. I sat at the kitchen table and clenched my little hands into tight fists, nails digging bloody half-circles into my palms, against a roaring tide of rage as he called Middle Brother a fuck-up and and unjustly accused him of being a liar. So many times, I opened my mouth, in an attempt to shut things down, but something in the back of my head caused it to snap shut again without voicing any of my objections.. Middle Brother was standing his ground and holding his own. This was his fight and I was only peripherally involved, if that at all.
I had expectations of this extending into the wee hours of the night, like the last fight did. I continually stole glances at the clock, watching the minutes tick slowly by and refusing to leave the apartment because I feared for leaving them alone together. The Engineer wouldn't leave either, much to my discomfort. One's family, on a good day and in a normal group, can be slightly embarassing. My fucked-up family excels at embarassment because it seems as if they become even more insane and puerile whilst in the public eye.
At eight forty-five, I rubbed the bridge of my nose and lit a cigarette. Thought to myself that if this shit wasn't over by nine-fifteen, I was going to bust out a referee flag and call the match. Then, at nine o'clock, it screeched to a halt when I was barely paying attention. Before I knew it, the words, "...and I want you to leave. Now." came out of Middle Brother's mouth and Eldest Brother was being ushered towards the door with a slam and the locks being snapped into place. I heard him in the hallway, profanity and self-righteousness being spit at the door.
And then he was gone.
And I'm bothered by this more than I've been realizing. I spoke of it a small bit last night to the Engineer, after Middle Brother had finally gone to bed. That my entire life, all I ever wanted was one of those families who, you know, speak to each other.
I know better than to expect normalcy, no one gets to ride that particular free bus, but I'd like a sembalence of closeness, at the very least. I wanted a family that got together at the holidays. I wanted a family that called one another, even if it was to shriek at angry hyper-sonic levels once in a while. I wanted a family that could be in the same room, at the same time, and not have too many uncomfortable silences. I wanted a family that gathered for more than just funerals.
Apparently, this was just a bit too much to ask. I knew it was hopeless, this obscene wanting of mine, but it was there all the same. And when our mother died, I had nurtured a small and fervant hope that maybe this time, the three of us could be our own unit. That we would band together in the face of our grief and, somehow, work things out between us. That, at the very least, I could have a small tribe of people who shared blood with me. Other than my father, my brothers had been the only part of the family to associate with me. One side are too remote and removed from my upbringing to really give a damn about me or mine, the other side just plain want nothing to do with us for reasons not of our making.
Middle Brother and I had basically dropped any animosity towards Eldest Brother, in a good faith effort of extending the olive branch. But, it looks as if he just didn't give a damn about either of us. Ever. As always, it's about him. His pain. His shitty upbringing. How people treated him. Who has done him wrong. How he's put himself so out there for everyone else. And how no one has ever done the same for him.
We are both so, so tired of it all. And it hurts like fucking hell to shut him out of our lives once again. Only this time, it's not his choice like it was before, but ours. My emotions are warring in my head; a huge and swirling mass of sadness, anger, pain, disappointment, disgust and relief. I can't sort through them all without turning into a puddlemess. This hurts. And the hurt pisses me the fuck off. Why should I be hurt that a fucking junkie turned his back on us? Why should I be unhappy that someone of that low character wants nothing to do with Middle Brother and I? Why do I care? What difference does it make, honestly?
I don't want that sort of person in my life, so why am I so fucking upset over this?
Above all else and for the first time since she died in 2004, I am straight-up glad that my mother is dead. She didn't have to witness the filth spewing from Elder's Brother's mouth at Middle Brother and she also doesn't have to deal with the semi-unrelated VC Andrews-sized scandal I received confirmation of last night after all of this or any of its predicted and expected fallout.
All of this would have broken her heart, much as it's coming close to breaking mine.
"I'm sorry." I said to Middle Brother last night, after the smoke and debris began to settle.
"Don't be. What're you sorry for?"
"I'm sorry because I know you wanted this work. And because I wanted this to work. And it didn't."
He ducked his head and wiped his face, as is his habit whenever he doesn't want to show any emotion.
Throughout today and last night before, I was wobbling on the knife-edge of hilarity. Maybe more like hysteria if you look at it a bit closer, but I just wasn't noticing the difference then.
Make your bed and now lie,
just like you always do.
You can fake it for the papers,
but I'm onto you.
I'm onto you.
I'm onto you.
I'm onto you.
I'm onto you.
