One of the Most Defining Moments of My Life

I used to have two older brothers that I loved equally and immensely (I remember as a little girl, trying to pick a favorite, but I just couldn’t decide).  However, one day when I was twelve, I lost one.  He didn’t die, he left the family.  He no longer speaks to me or my parents.  I loved this man and he had been loving towards me.  I thought that he meant it.

So, the story starts with my father marrying his first wife and adopting her young son (B) whose father had died when he was only 6 months old. My dad raised B and my other brother (J).

Unfortunately, my dad’s ex wife divorced him after almost 10 years together. My father ended up with seeing the boys on Wednesday nights and every other weekend. When he met my mother, he also took a job offer in a bordering state. Custody changed to a few weeks in the summer and Christmases. Those were the times I bonded with them.

Once they were all grown up, I only saw them once or twice a year. I can still remember the day we went to surprise B at his work that we had come to town. He saw me, opened up his arms real wide and I ran straight into them. Despite my current feelings, that’s a good memory that I can carry with me.

J got married first when I was nine. I met B’s girlfriend a while later and then finally they were having a wedding. We all drove down for it, being very excited. That’s when we found out his true feelings for us. J told us B was losing my father’s last name for his new step father’s last name. We were all shocked. Why would he do this, especially to my dad?! My father had raised him as his own.

We ended up not going to the wedding, including J. I think we were all very hurt. This is also when communication was lost between my father and me. I felt so abandoned. And betrayed.

When I was about 23 or so, I found B on Facebook and was so enraged that I sent him a message wanting to know why. He simply replied that my dad had “abandoned” him for his “new” family. I guess he forgot our bonding time and the fact that his mother divorced our father.

I replied back, asking why me? What did I do? No reply. Communication lost again.

So now I tell people I only have one brother and that’s just how it feels, except for the void in my heart where I used to have two.

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