All I can say is that I know of me. My life.
I just live. Just as I often just am. Just as I often just do.
I can not plot to hurt. I can not scheme for my own benefit. (...and further more what benefit have you seen me to reap from this situation *losing my brother, tearing my family, hurting you hurting me being sorry but not regretting not understanding...the same misunderstanding of life and experiencing an unbeing of being. An existence without name after all is a negation of language; a negation of being. But here I am. I'm still breathing, I'm still going, I'm still here, I still feel, I....I....I don't want to make things worse. I don't trust what is pouring out of my heart right now, but I know it has to go somewhere. Here is where it will rest.
I hate making this about me. Because, in the end, it's about us. But you want nothing to do with us right now, so I'm left with no other choice. No other alternative. I know you aren't ready for us yet, but I'm waiting for it. I'm ready for us. I'm ready to talk--but you need your time, and I can't control how much you may need. I can only respect it. I will respect the way you've initiated this, even though I don't support it.
In lieu of what has happened- I will not recount- I will tell you everything me has to say. I go through stages; through waves of emotions; sadness, indifference, anger, confusion, frustration, relief, release, anxiety--nearly everything but happiness. This situation, in my opinion, doesn't allow any breed of happiness for anyone-- I say this in search of insight, not to denounce your feelings or how you are going about this---but what solution does your equation produce? I'll trust that a complete separation solves something, but what?
Me: me feels-- and the thoughts coursing through my brain are disconnected through the shock you presented. Here they are...
-completely blind sighted. You didn't confront me before you cut me off. I'm hurt. Hurt more than I've ever hurt before. I'm sorry for the things I said. They were said out of frustration and anger--no doubt derived by the situation and actions taken. They weren't directed towards your person but the person you were in those few moments. I didn't agree with the situation or actions taken...but I still loved you all the while. And I still love you. I would never give you the disservice to talk about you when you couldn't hear what was being said. If I say something, I will not go behind your back. I knew the door was open--I know the walls are paper thin--but I never meant to attack you. I was venting and words are words. It was how I was feeling at the moment: that you over reacted, and took irrational actions because of anger. I talked to your little not to turn him against you, but to try to save you from a decision that I thought would make your (as well as other's) life harder. I really was trying to help. All I knew was that you weren't listening to me and maybe you would listen to him. Maybe you would listen to your brother. I was afraid for you and the actions that you could take. That was my motivation, my sole motivation in talking to your little about talking to you.
As for the man in the attack, I could care less how you handle that. It was another decision I didn't trust you to make out of anger. I was only trying to intervene to save something that I thought was worth saving. If I had known that my actions there would have hurt our friendship, I wouldn't have even said his name in your presence. The only thing I care about and can control is our friendship; and now I care about how I can make this up to you. What steps I can take in order to help to heal the damage. I know there will always be a scar--it can't be prevented, but maybe one day we'll be able to look back on the scar...Maybe I will be able to see it someday, say I'm really sorry, and maybe you'll hug me and say just don't do it again.
I don't understand you, but I still love you. I never intentionally instigated. That one time the man in the attack, came down and met me and the person who now occupies your old room....I really didn't say anything. The man in the attack saw you--and said what he said on his own. The only thing I've ever said to the man in the attack about you has been when you have been angry at him. When your angry with someone, you owe them the respect, the respect they deserve as a human being, to tell them that your mad at them for this this and this. You're allowed to be mad, to be mad for as long as you want, but you owe them notice--so things like this don't happen. So people, including yourself, don't hurt as much when everything blows up. So your angers' shrapnel doesn't penetrate as deep, so your scars aren't as bold.
I told you I would never choose between you two: the man in the attack and the brother I've known for the past three years. I also told you I was still his friend. You should have told me then that that bothered you. I wouldn't have let you see it happen--the friendship--I would have protected you from it. (I wouldn't have enjoyed this secrecy...but I know that you are worth it. I would have done it for you.) Contrary to what you have said, I still haven't picked. You two are NOT equal. I place you above him. You are my brother. You mean a lot to me. Even through this I worry about you and how you are taking this. I worry about your hurt and wish I were there to try to comfort you. I NEVER MADE A CHOICE. I was just being, as I often am.
As for our mutual friend from the north, I left the room. I didn't know how to handle it. I physically and mentally shut down. It's something about my defense system that I don't like. When things like that happen, I separate myself from the situation. I thought that she was going to stop breathing.....I was scared....I sat in the hallway and stared on. I REALLY THOUGHT THAT THERE WAS A CHANCE I WOULD LOSE HER! I regret leaving her and going to Bob Evans. I was wrong here...but part of me knew that the danger was avoided and I couldn't help her sleep.
I am really and truly hurt by how you have handled this. It really sent me a message to how you've valued our three year friendship. How you could even imagine throwing this away, without trying to work things out, let alone talk things out, upsets me more than I can express.
To me, YOU ARE WORTH IT. You are worth my time and energy. You are worth my trouble. Most importantly, you are worth my fight as is our friendship. It also hurts to know that if I make a mistake, you won't flat out tell me. I feel friendship is saying, hey you fucked up--just don't do it again. If I do it again, that's when you can say well....we kinda already talked about this. I know now that if I fuck up--you're dropping me...dropping me without warning.
As a friend, I will always tell you when I don't agree with something you're doing or how you're reacting, but that doesn't change our relationship. Or at least it shouldn't. I can be your friend and support you without supporting all of your decisions or actions.
I will take responsibility. I WAS WRONG. I shouldn't have done many of the things I did. I shouldn't have spoken in frustration or anger. I should have let you have your beef with the man in the attack. I should have minded my own business and trusted your decisions. I should have let you know clearly that I support you. I should have let you know that you will always be my brother and no one could replace you or top you in that sense.
So, what do you hope to come of this? Do we just part ways and awkwardly see each other, or can we handle this in a different way? I miss you. The saddest part to me is that if this situation was happening between me and anyone else....I would be talking to you about it. You would be the one to make me feel better. Now, I can't go to you and I'm hurt; sad; upset.
Overall I'm hoping. I'm hoping that one day you'll be able to stand in the same room with me. I'm hoping that one day you'll let me sleep on your futon. I'm hoping that you still love me the way I love you. I am still going to love you....I am hoping that you still love me--and are willing to get past this. I'm hoping that I'm worth more to you than you're indicating now. Or maybe I just hope that at one point I was. That at one point I was worth fighting for (as I feel you are), and maybe it was that one moment in time that will bring you to say that perhaps I still am.
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