E-SoapBox.Net

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
– William Ernest Henley

This post has been living in the back of my mind for a while now.  

When I was little, I asked for a brother.   Being the little “angel” I was back then, I got the brother. 

And never really liked him

He is six years younger than me, and being the second child, my parents were less strict with him. 
He bullied me, and Icouldn’t fight back, because I was “older”
I couldn’t complain about him, because I was the big sister, supposed to be older and more grown up.  I was 6!!

He was always tidier than me, and my parents never forgot to tell me that.   “Look at him, look how neat he is”. 
He was also the smarter one.  A and B’s  for him all the way through school.  I guess I was the dumb one,  I had to work my ass of to maintain a C average. 

We always fought.  And I was always blamed.  I am older, I should’ve known better. 

My parents moved a lot.  5 times in 7 years.  For 2 years they  had a restaurant/snackbar where they both worked full-time.  That left me to babysit my brother.  I was 9.  He wandered around a lot, I had to find him again.  For 2 years  I spent my time looking for him all over town.  I found him at the pool, in a bar, in a hotel somewhere, at the bank and who knows where else. 

Then he went to school.

We were in the same primary school for 2 years.  Everybody complained about him, to me. 
I was called to the principals office when something happened at school.   When once again, he wouldn’t listen. 
I was the one who had to make sure he got home OK in the afternoon.  I had to feed him, do my homework, start dinner, and never complain.

Highschool wasn’t much different.  Same story, except we were in different schools, but he was still the neat/tidy/smart one.  I was just a big nothing.

I left home when I was 19, the year he started highschool.  We have never been close, and  moving away didn’t help much either.

I never liked him.  I still don’t.  I don’t know where he is, what he does or if he is OK.

And I can honestly say, I don’t care.  I am letting go. 

I don’t have a brother anymore