Dear Little Brother,
Sorry. I know you do not like being referred to as my “little brother”. It’s better than me calling you by name, though, right?
For a long time I thought you were the “normal” one. Opinionated and stubborn, perhaps, but all in all you were ok. I know what you went through after I got kicked out. We talked about the daily interrogations and such. I was sorry for what you went through.
I loved you. I always loved you, and I missed you dearly. I was so happy we were able to re-establish ties.
You and I were good until Dad died. You never tried to find out why I had the audacity to call you three times. Instead you bitched about me behind my back, accused me of having a Jesus complex. For what it’s worth, you were the one who left me. But you wouldn’t try to pretend it was any other way, so I need not press the point.
What you did later, when my STBX and I were arguing over custody arrangements?
I am still stunned. I can’t even write about it directly. It’s too much. It hurts. It can still bring tears to my eyes.
If it had only been me that you were fucking with, that would have been one thing. But you… you fucked with my kid.
It is my failure that I can find no compassion for you now.
I hope there is no peace for you.
Jennifer
Fluff and Bunkum 
I can’t imagine betraying, causing so much hurt, to anyone in my family.
But, perhaps that proves the rule – blood does not make family.
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With him it was so unexpected. Crazy vindictive shit from my Mom? Of course. From my sister? Naturally. But from him? And involving my son the way he did? No. That I never would have believed. It killed me inside.
The craziest part of all is this: he lives less than an hour away, the only “blood” I have living anywhere nearby.
Well, there is an even crazier thing. I wasn’t going to go here, but fuck it. I’ve come this far.
After my extremely painful and messy divorce, my brother and his wife would go visit my ex at his house. They even spent holidays together. How’s that for a kick in the teeth?
Excuse me. I gotta go away for a little bit. I actually did read about people other than me and my family today, though, and I very much liked your story…
Look for an email from me this weekend, ok?
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I’ll keep my eyes open for the email…
They visited your ex for holidays? What the fuck is right.
People… I don’t understand people. I’m sorry that your blood family is worthless, and I hope you have found better friends to take their place.
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They are only a few, but I have the best people around me. I have chosen very, very carefully.
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That’s good. A few great people are better than a treasure trove of bad ones.
That’s how I’ve always been too. I can count my “close” friends on one hand. But, in a pinch, they’d have my back no matter the odds or argument, and vise versa.
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Jennifer, This is awful stuff. Family stuff is usual THE most awful stuff. Sorry to read about your brother causing you this grief. To hang with your ex and hurt your kids. Ugh. You’ve still got my email address and ear from the Rara issue. Hey, if you can yank me about Jeapordy and Weird Al I’ll let you rant and yell about anything …
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HA! Mark, you are too awesome for words. You have given me the gift of Weird Al, and you made me smile so big! 😀
I’ll shoot you an email this weekend. In the meantime, you should read about my sister (http://bleachedbonevalley.wordpress.com/2014/07/02/and-back-one-step/). She’s a classic case of pseudologia fantastica.
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sigh
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That’s the way it goes sometimes.
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I feel you… so to speak
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heh
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yup
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