Brothers and Sisters

I don’t come from a big family. I have only one older brother, who, apparently can be both very caring and mean at the same time. Growing up with him, despite the fun times we had, makes me feel like I have never done enough to please him – and myself, in the case. I am suspicious that he might know about me being aj; even though he has never said it bluntly. Whatever is in his mind, I don’t really care, and I don’t wanna second-guessing him. Despite of our distance – 2 hours flight plus 3 hours driving – we don’t do the telephone call often; only some text messages here and there. So, I don’t get to share my problems – and he doesn’t share his – even when I am at the worst.

Thus, watching this series, Brothers and Sisters, give me this kind of mixed feeling – lonely, jealousy, sad, happy. Watching the family endlessly shows the love, fights over some matters, or fails to keep secrets, it’s just everything I didn’t have. From Sarah being a divorcee to Justin being a drug addict, they just implies that your family is the one who’s never gonna stop supporting you. They’re strong enough for you to rely on when you’re at the weakest. They do feel disappointed for your failures, but they still give you hope you need. You’re…just alive.

I enjoy my youth, so I can’t whine about my mother being so old-fashioned, nor my brother being so stubborn (did I just do that?), because I know I love them. But I don’t know if they love me enough to accept me being an aj. I…doubt it. Or maybe I just don’t have the guts. Or maybe I know, they will never understand it. My mom needs me being this perfect son. Her perfect son. And at time like this, I just wish I were Kevin. Pathetic? Shameful? Ridiculous? Unnecessary? Call me whatever you want.

Then suddenly I understand. I understand now, better, why I always feel lonely. Despite the crowd, friends, family. All the gloomy things seem to be ours. You can live a festive life; you can bitch around and think you’re lucky and pretty; whatever you do, but admit it: we are the loneliest people in the world. We are men, who cant even be faithful to ourselves… Hiding in our dark-narrow-yet lovely closet, we wear this mask everyday. I am not saying that being straight is much better, yet at least, it’s much easier in some way. Or is it just the place and the culture? I don’t know. I am too tired to learn to know.