06 October 2010

Day 09 → Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted

I haven't been keeping up with this meme because I don't really want to write this post.

I had an idea, but the Terra plucked it right out of my head, and she said it better than I ever could anyways.
--
Oi.
So I have another idea, but this one is even harder to write about.
I feel like writing it will set it in stone, and I don't really want it to be true.
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My brother James.

James has always been difficult and temperamental and unwilling to compromise and completely willing to get in an argument or make a scene or whatever.  
James and I have always had a somewhat contentious element to our relationship.  He pushes my buttons, I tease him, he freaks out, I tease him for freaking out, he freaks out more, I apologize, he pushes my buttons, and we start over again.

Underneath all of that, we've always been close.  We've always been friends, despite our 10 year age gap. 
There has always been a baseline of getting along.
And James has always been so sweet.
In first grade, James had a project where he wrote about the best part of Christmas.  He wrote, "The best part of Christmas is my whole family coming home."  
When James was turning nine, and my sister and I were both away at college, he told my mom that what he wanted most for his birthday was for all of his siblings to be there.  And we all came. 
The thing about James is that under all the yelling, there's this sensitive person, someone who adores children. 
A competent babysitter.

Up until James was 13, he was a chubby kid.
When James was 14, he went on a major fitness kick.  And he started making snide remarks about my sister, me, my mom being fat.

I would never say something like that to you James.  I never did not once.  I have never in my life called you fat.

He'll say the meanest things.

You can't TALK to people that way.  No one talks to you like that.

FUCK YOU MOM!

James I never said things like that to mom. Never.

At some point we were all just holding our breath waiting for him to go away to school.  Not that we don't love him, because obviously we do.
And not that we don't understand teenaged hormones and male rage and difficult people because OH HAI WOULD YOU LIKE TO MEET MY FAMILY?

He came back for a weekend, and it was just yelling and strife and OHMYGOD go!  Go back to San Francisco!

I still adore the kid, he's still sweet sometimes, and I'm pretty sure by the time he's 25 he'll have figured out how to interact with us without flipping out or flipping us out, but man.  I used to really like to hang out with himLike we were friends.
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30 Days of Truth

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