My Brother

Update post for today. Took me a while to write it out but here it is.

Me and mom were sitting at the dinner table cutting up steak and eating while we talked. And my mom had brought up the phone bill. I figured it may have been something to do with me, but no it was my brother, Kavanaugh.

“So I looked at our phone bill,” mom began. “Kav had 31 dollars worth of international calls to Canada.”

“You know who it was?” I responded.

“It was one of his friends from the Xbox. And I told him, ‘they’re not actual friends’. I think he should be calling real friends from school and going out for pizza. Just something instead of spending all his time on that game.”

I know Kavanaugh a bit more than my mom does. He’s not a very social person in real life, but I know he has a few solid friends from school. They just spend their days on the game as well. That’s his way of keeping in touch with them while they enjoy a game as well. But she is right that he should be getting out more. He’s on a bit of a downward spiral in his schoolwork. He hasn’t been taking good care of himself as well. Whenever I hear that he’s going out with a friend or two or when he gets a phone call, I feel happy to know there are people other than his family that love him. Because I have to be honest, you can’t be happy when your family is the only thing that cares about you.

“Do you think he’s gay?”

My heart stopped at that.

My brother is gay. He told me himself (before I came out to anyone) and it has never been mentioned since. But that’s just it. My brother can’t come out to the family. My mom I think could handle it because she handled me pretty well. But my dad…

When he found out I was gay it tore him apart inside. Whenever my dad talked to me about my sexuality, I could sense his emotions through the way he spoke to me. He loved me so much, yet the fact that I was gay shattered his feelings toward me. And I can tell that he is trying desperately to piece himself back together. The thing is acceptance is the only adhesive that would repair his emotions. He still hopes and prays to whatever God he may believe is out there that this is just a phase with me. But it won’t happen. And once he realizes that he will have to start all over.

When a sand castle gets knocked down, the poor child who made it will rebuild it. But if the destroyer comes back for a second time to stomp again mid-reconstruction, the kid won’t try again. My coming out already broke his sand castle, and my dad is currently rebuilding it. He won’t be done any time soon. My brother can’t kick it down. But I don’t think my brother realizes the castle was crushed once already. And if he were to do so. My dad wouldn’t rebuild the sand castle.

I could really only imagine what he would do next:

-Swim in the ocean, and avoid the people who ruined his castle.

-Leave the beach.

-Make sure the people who ruined the castle don’t get to cause any more trouble.

I’m going to cry. These seem like very extreme actions. I could never imagine my father taking any of them. But you never know what happens when you break someone, especially one as hardened as him.

“No, mom.”