Sunday, January 3, 2016

cry more than me

Originally I wrote about this in exact detail... but due to the sensitivity of it, I opted to save it without posting. If things don't work out, I'll post about it around December... when all will be clear.

What I can discuss without getting OTHERS in trouble (who gives a shit if I'M the one to get in trouble. It happens often, so I don't give a shit if I get in trouble), is this:

I was under the impression that my brother was having the time of his life.
He seemed to love his job, he definitely loves his location, and more importantly, his peers and LOCALS love him.

Turns out, my brother is not having such a great time. Times are very rough.
That's all I'll say about that.

I knew things were busy, based on what we all see on the news in regard to Greece.... but apparently I don't know a third of the bullshit.

I knew he was stressed, because when he visited us last month, he basically spent his time reading, sleeping... and clinging to us like a needy little baby. This, of course, broke my heart.
Then Christmas Eve happened.
His "work wife" who happens to be one of his best friends was drunk and spilled a little too much information.
"I love this guy. Man, I've seen this guy cry more than HE has seen ME cry! 'I just don't want to disappoint them, man. They've all sacrificed so much for me, man!'"
And my brother turned red... giving us a nervous laugh... then rushing her out of the house (she was already half way out the door when she said this stuff).

I always leave Athens sad as fuck. I always cry the night before my departure flight. This time, however, I was a depressed mess since Christmas (I was already a crying bitch by my second night in Rome, which was my 3rd night abroad. That's when we received our first bit of bad news, relating to my brother's situation). I'd fid myself looking at my brother... just admiring him... fighting tears, but at the same time trying to comfort him as best I could... making him laugh... forget his shitty situation.
But I see it-- I see he's tired and broken. He is disappointed. He is confused. He is... he's disillusioned. He's all of this, but trying his hardest to put on a brave face, like he's having fun... like he's happy.
And that's not cool. Not cool at all.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: I am a jaded, cynical, fucked up individual. I am broken... like, dysfunctional, unrepairable garbage. I am emotionally fucked, psychologically damaged, and exhausted. I've seen a lot fucked up shit, heard a lot of terrible shit, and worst of all, physically felt a lot of bullshit that I don't wish upon anyone.
However, as fucked up as this all has been, and how much it has ruined me, I would go through all of it again if it meant it would keep my siblings from knowing or dealing with  ANYTHING of this shit.
I'm the jaded, cynical cunt... but I'll be motherfucking damned if that happens to either of my siblings.

That hurt me... that's my brother, he is the least deserving of those feelings.

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