my heart, broken by my self (long)

There have been a few recent discussions of break-ups and I'd like to share mine. This is very painful to me. I don't want to have to defend myself, to convince you to agree with my choices. I want to talk about what has happened and how I feel.

Well, I feel bad. I am breaking up with my brother. No, this does not mean I will never speak to him again. I don't know what this means, entirely; one thing I'm sure of is I am done seeking him out, only to be rejected repeatedly and rarely if ever returned some common courtesies he extends to his employer and his friends. I have always been close to my family, I've always put them first in my heart. I love(d) my brother very, very, very much and this is one of the most painful things I've had to face in as long as I can remember.

The reason I have to do something now is I am worried if things go on the way they are I won't forgive him for what's been happening.

My brother and I grew up close, being less than two years apart in age. For as far back as I remember we had the same groups of friends. I have so many, many memories of the two of us and our friends and good times together. Our closeness began changing slightly while I was in college; by the time I was dating Ralph, we were close but our paths were starting to diverge a bit. Soon I started noticing The Pattern: the pattern of me pursuing, pressing, cajoling, asking - and him being standoffish. Accepting my offer to buy him lunch as if it was a favor to me, niggling about terms. That sort of thing. This only seems to have worsened over the last few years I've had a family, with perhaps a few interludes of what felt like a relationship shared in equanimity.

One year ago I realized his deliberate distancing must indicate an (undisclosed by him) dissatisfaction with me or with us. He was not coming forth with this dissatisfaction (if indeed there was one). But I felt responsible to let him know I wanted time with him, and I was open to changes in our relationship. So I made it clear to him I'd like something different than both the child terms of Kelly-on-top relationship and the adult evolution of Billy-as-aloof relationship (yes, our names are Kelly and Billy! Funny eh?). I didn't want to always be the "seeker" to his emotionally distant maybe-yes-maybe-no. I wanted something more like an adult friendship of choice, with courtesy, with jettison of baggage as we felt ready, with direct communication if possible but more to the point, mutual respect. If he needed less time with me, I'd like him to then take initiative when he was ready to be with me. After briefly explaining this to him I asked him if he'd commit to a visit. I told him I didn't care when it was or how long the visit would be, I wanted him to commit and for it to happen. We settled on the first week in October (2006), about a half year away from the discussion.

As October approached, he did not bring up the visit. One evening on a phone call (me calling him) he started talking about the date as if it was something I'd coerced him into, not something we'd agreed on together, clear-eyed and sober and openly. "So when did you want me to visit?" he asks, implying a very full schedule, stress on his part, and as if HE hadn't *set the date and terms himself*. (this is crazy-making and confusing for me: perhaps it's meant to be?). I halted this type of discussion and told him I couldn't make him visit, and I wasn't going to try to cajole him. But if he backed out on our agreement I'd be disappointed. The very agreement itself was meant to be something we both agreed to gladly. I left him to think about it and let me know.

To my joy, he came, for six of the seven original days planned. We had a good time and I felt hope for us and our future. I felt maybe he could spend time with me on his terms, and that I could see him less but know he wanted to see me.

However, our brief foray into healthier relating seems to have been just that - brief. Since we moved here almost four months ago things have gotten even more pinched. These days he literally pretends he doesn't understand what I'm saying when I make an overture. "I'd like you to come over for dinner sometime this week," I say, bravely (since I am rejected about 80% of the time and it has been harder and harder to ask). "Why?" he says. Even if he assents, he never just says, "Yeah, cool". He doles out 2 hour increments of time. He does not agree to any less formal or structured (or brief) hang-out. He does not agree to babysit my children for even one hour. He does not seek me out or invite me to anything. ANYTHING. He does not, as far as I can tell, have any use for me.

I am fine with him living his own life. I am not fine with how many times I've asked for his company and he has not even done me the respect of saying outright "yes" or "no"... he hems and haws and puts me off. Sometimes he literally doesn't even respond with a verbal answer (my dad does this too; it angers me to write about it). My brother has always been "wanted" by me, by my mom, and by many of his friends. He may have felt, in our past, that I had some psychic upper hand as I was the bigger and stronger (psychically) for years. But the way I see it he has had more power than me for quite some time: this "wanting" has allowed him to pick and choose everything about when we see him and if. When I think that perhaps he developed this aloofness (selfishness?) in response to our childhood relationship my skin crawls: surely my adult relationship with him will not be held hostage to real or imagined suffering he went through? I can think of no other explanation for his behavior, though, and especially in light of how close we used to be.

Last weekend friends of ours were here for a visit. I did not know they were coming (they were more his friends than mine, but I spent lots of time with them). My family and I were over at my parents' mowing their lawn. When I saw my old friends my heart just cried out: I wanted nothing more than a brief couple hours away from my family just to be around them. I got my guts up and called my brother (who lives upstairs in my parents' house, and has for his whole life lived with them so far). I asked if I could hang out with them for a while. He didn't answer, he said, "Ummmmmm..." [awkward pause]. I finally said, "OK, you'd rather not?" and he said, "Yeah." P.S. he always answers with this, "Oh how awkward and sad I have to hurt your feelings" tone that just fucking bothers me. I said, "OK, talk to you later!" and hung up.

I think that was the last straw (of many incidents). I want to cry thinking about this (incidentally I did cry out on the deck by the fire that night; my husband caught me crying, thought it was about him, and snapped at me! "That's it, kids. We're going home," that sort of thing. Needless to say I haven't felt like sharing much with him although he knows the bare bones of what I'm relating here). Here's my question: if my brother knew how much this hurt my feelings would he have done anything different? I have told him in no uncertain terms what I want. How many times is it my responsibility to remind him?

I have decided I've had enough; it's too painful. By all his actions, he doesn't want me, doesn't want a relationship (or at least not one that isn't convenient for him), doesn't love me. His words and his actions say, "I don't want time with you." OK. He's got it.

I don't know what else to do besides that. I don't know how much to tell him. I removed him from my IM list (so I won't see him and be tempted to write). I know I will have no trouble being around him at my parents'. I know when I see him I will be emotionally closed-off. I hate being that person; but I don't know what other choice I have that will allow me to keep my self-respect and hold him as an ABLE adult - in other words, I'm only closed-off now but I gave him many, many chances.

My life is now easier without this longing, but I am sad. I am so unbelievably sad (and I cry as I write this). Every day I am reminded of him. I listen to my iPod on the bus and think, "I'll put this on his next mix CD!" I finish a book and think of getting him a copy. I plan something nice to cook and impulsively want to invite him over.

For anyone who's read this far, thank you. This is really about me wanting to write it out: but I am also hurt and confused and wouldn't mind talking about it, either.

I don't want to be told I'm not doing something perfectly. I don't want to be told I'm right or wrong. I want to be told I'm *not crazy* for breaking up a relationship that, when it comes down to, is so hard to pin down the dysfunction. I want to be respected for doing something self-respecting. I want to be consoled (not necessarily verbally, and not necessarily here) for grief over what I've treasured and loved for thirty years - my brother and my closeness. Yeah, something about this closeness must have been seriously fucked-up or one-sided in some way (although I think he will miss me and my family when we withdraw) but it was real, so real for me. And I know it *could* have evolved; I don't know if it will.

Now is apparently not the time for us and words can't express how sad and lonely this makes me. I am also angry at him and very hurt - a part of me never wants to see him again. Mostly I am just sad, sad, sad.