I knew my brother really hated me and something just happen recently only helped to further prove that…
Me and my brother haven’t had much, if any, of a relationship in the six years I have been in prison.
I think I have probably spoken to him once on the phone throughout all this time.
The phone call lasted less than a minute.
Maybe I’ve received two letters from him also.
I’m not even sure what I did that was so bad to make my brother hate me, either.
I mean, it’s not like I fucked up his life. I fucked up my own life. And let’s be honest here…
My life hasn’t affected my brother in a long time.
But I get it. I’m the fuck up so why not distance yourself from that, right?
Well, I’m not sure if any of you know this or not. But I really am trying to fix my life and better myself.
I’m not sure if I ever mention that on here or not…
With all this “fixing” and “bettering” I’ve been trying to do, well, part of that includes trying to repair some damaged relationships including the one that is all but nonexistent between my brother and me.
Seeing as I don’t have my brothers address or phone number anymore, the only way I have been able to attempt that is through Facebook.
I might have sent him twp inboxes in the past.
Well, about six months ago my brother deactivated his account. But this is nothing new he has done that a few times in the past for whatever reason.
Then sometime around December he reactivated it again.
It was shortly thereafter that I decided to take a chance and contact him.
I sent him a really decent felt inbox
I told him how I hoped everything was going really great for him and how I hoped he was happy because he deserved to be happy. I told him how much respect I have for him and how proud I am of him for him not ending up like me. And I also told him how hard I had been working to turn it all around and how I hoped somehow, someday, we could work towards establishing some sort of relationship.
A whole lot of “hoping” I sent my brother in that inbox.
A whole lot of heartfelt stuff too.
Well, my brother didn’t respond right away.
In fact it seemed like he wasn’t even going to respond. I mean I must have sent the message around the middle of Dec and by the New Year I still hadn’t heard anything.
Maybe he wasn’t going to ever respond.
But then, he finally did.
When Jen told me my brother had finally responded, I was anxious and excited to hear what he might say.
I was curious to know what had been going on in my brother’s life. Maybe he had told me in his response.
Jen asked me if I wanted her to read me this response and of course I did!
Maybe he would tell me how the family is doing.
Or maybe he would tell me about my 5 year old nephew I had only seen one picture of since he was born.
“Here is what your brother wrote” Jen said. “Are you ready?”
“Yes!” I exclaimed.
“Okay”. She said.
“What?” I said confused.
“Cool.” She said again. “That was your brother’s response.” One word…
My heartfelt words had struck an iceberg.
My hope of actually reaching through to my brother and in a sense “breaking the ice” between us was as big as the Titanic.
That one word response seemed worse to me for some reason then if he would have not responded at all.
But I guess maybe it was needed…
Because it certainly showed me just where I stand in my brother’s life and how he still must feel about me.