I am of feeble heart

Picture by Dust Magazine

I must be a bad person. I must be a bad friend and I especially must be a bad brother. I rarely write about matters about family because it’s such a sensitive issue and I do not want to push the wrong buttons but this is something I have to work on or just live with it because I can possibly change well … me.

I’ll admit that I’m not what you shall classify an average boy next door and I’ll never be that person; I don’t play sports and I don’t go to the gym. And when you know that your brother is getting gym advice from another person I just felt like I’m not doing my job as a brother. Maybe I’m just jealous that I can’t be that person he can talk to about his problems and I can’t force him to talk.

How difficult it must be to stay so close knowing that we have such remote interests?

A prickly disposition I can be when people make fun of me. Just the other day, someone made a remark that I’m looking more and more like a girl and that my eyelashes were too long for a guy(Personally, I was just better groomed on that day than I ever was for the week). To a person filled with confidence, one can easily brush away that remark. So I tried to own it and told him that at least I had visible eyelashes. Well, let’s just say that’s how I ended the conversation.

But right after that conversation, I went into a room, sat down and my eyes started welling up — in need to scream and shout but was forced to be silent. After that I wanted to ask a good friend is I really look more like a girl but was too embarrassed to do so. How would he think of me? A freak or a monster probably.

They say you write your own stories but I’m letting other people do that. I’ve got no control of my life and I need help.

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