[I was just going through some old dox on an old machine]
It's true, I have a little bro. But, as sometimes things go with family, it's been a long time since we spoke. It really sux. But I knew it was gonna be this way. I wrote this letter to him 10 years ago today, after about a year of silence. It didn't work.
It's true, I have a little bro. But, as sometimes things go with family, it's been a long time since we spoke. It really sux. But I knew it was gonna be this way. I wrote this letter to him 10 years ago today, after about a year of silence. It didn't work.
Dear Anthony, 28 March, 1996
If, even in some small way, a letter I once wrote is responsible for making things the way they are between us, then I am not completely naive if I allow myself to hope that another letter may set things right. Or at least begin the effort.
I think enough time has passed silently between us by now that we face the very real danger that we will never be brothers again. Part of that danger lies in the fact that we no longer know each other. One does not know what is in the heart of the other. We are worse than strangers, because we do not dare guess what the other is thinking. It may be that losing the person you once called ?brother? is exactly what you want. Perhaps this is the message I am expected to read in your actions. If this is correct, then I can only forgive you for leaving me to ?get the picture? in this way if you have in the center of your being already judged me a monster. In which case, I would not be deserving of any explanation, nor could you be reasonably expected to suffer my face or the sound of my voice again.
If this is really your wish, please do not think that I am self-pitying or looking to pierce your heart with guilt by acknowledging your decision in this way. A man has a right to choose who is in his life, after all. I would not want to be a tolerated presence simply because we are related by blood, simply because we have a history. These things alone do not entitle anything. Except perhaps the dignity of an answer. If it is really your wish that our relationship remain as it is now, that we do nothing more than endure the sight of one another on those occasions as will surely arise from time to time until at least our parents are all dead, that we perform the occasional handshake or even the terrible embrace, if only to confer respect on the corpse of the moment, that we sit in the same room, suffering the stares of those among us who know we are brothers who do not speak, if it is really your wish, then you must make the choice visibly. You must take that responsibility. I will not look back on this time when I am old and think silently behind my wrinkled brow that I might have guessed wrong, or that we lost each other because neither bothered to check what the other was thinking. I must know. You need do nothing more than mail me a blank sheet of paper, if you like. But I must know.
On the other hand, if your mind is not yet clear on the matter, your heart not yet settled in one direction or the other, then I urge you to consider a reconciliation. Or at least entertain the possibility. As I wrote earlier, we do not know each other. If we do not despise one another (and in this regard I can only speak for myself), there is at least a small hope. We might come together now as strangers and find that time has done a wonderful, miraculous thing. It might have changed us, altered the memories, or shifted perception, or callused a point of tenderness, or blunted a sharp edge, or in some way done something to us that makes meaningless all that happened and was felt before. It?s possible. I think it would be enough just to believe.
I do not fool myself, though. I know it would certainly be easier to do nothing, to surrender to the flow of months and years. That is automatic, effortless. It has been easy hasn?t it? Life can be so rich after all, so many distractions and pleasures, more than enough to bury a fleeting thought that is full of discomfort anyway. If we do anything at all, it can only be because we both believe it?s worth the trouble. I don?t have a plan, Anthony. I certainly don?t know what you want. I?m only writing because I?m plagued by the thought that things are wrong the way they are. I?m sorry to force you to think about this again, and ask you to take a position. But, I am unable to turn the page as things are. At worst, I get a blank sheet of paper in the mail. At best, a phone call, an optimistic voice. Of course, that is my hope. Maybe we still have a chance for something good between us. Maybe not, maybe it?s all blown to hell irretrievably. I just don?t want to look back and wonder that a small gesture, a tiny effort might have made the difference. Do you?
Jack
If, even in some small way, a letter I once wrote is responsible for making things the way they are between us, then I am not completely naive if I allow myself to hope that another letter may set things right. Or at least begin the effort.
I think enough time has passed silently between us by now that we face the very real danger that we will never be brothers again. Part of that danger lies in the fact that we no longer know each other. One does not know what is in the heart of the other. We are worse than strangers, because we do not dare guess what the other is thinking. It may be that losing the person you once called ?brother? is exactly what you want. Perhaps this is the message I am expected to read in your actions. If this is correct, then I can only forgive you for leaving me to ?get the picture? in this way if you have in the center of your being already judged me a monster. In which case, I would not be deserving of any explanation, nor could you be reasonably expected to suffer my face or the sound of my voice again.
If this is really your wish, please do not think that I am self-pitying or looking to pierce your heart with guilt by acknowledging your decision in this way. A man has a right to choose who is in his life, after all. I would not want to be a tolerated presence simply because we are related by blood, simply because we have a history. These things alone do not entitle anything. Except perhaps the dignity of an answer. If it is really your wish that our relationship remain as it is now, that we do nothing more than endure the sight of one another on those occasions as will surely arise from time to time until at least our parents are all dead, that we perform the occasional handshake or even the terrible embrace, if only to confer respect on the corpse of the moment, that we sit in the same room, suffering the stares of those among us who know we are brothers who do not speak, if it is really your wish, then you must make the choice visibly. You must take that responsibility. I will not look back on this time when I am old and think silently behind my wrinkled brow that I might have guessed wrong, or that we lost each other because neither bothered to check what the other was thinking. I must know. You need do nothing more than mail me a blank sheet of paper, if you like. But I must know.
On the other hand, if your mind is not yet clear on the matter, your heart not yet settled in one direction or the other, then I urge you to consider a reconciliation. Or at least entertain the possibility. As I wrote earlier, we do not know each other. If we do not despise one another (and in this regard I can only speak for myself), there is at least a small hope. We might come together now as strangers and find that time has done a wonderful, miraculous thing. It might have changed us, altered the memories, or shifted perception, or callused a point of tenderness, or blunted a sharp edge, or in some way done something to us that makes meaningless all that happened and was felt before. It?s possible. I think it would be enough just to believe.
I do not fool myself, though. I know it would certainly be easier to do nothing, to surrender to the flow of months and years. That is automatic, effortless. It has been easy hasn?t it? Life can be so rich after all, so many distractions and pleasures, more than enough to bury a fleeting thought that is full of discomfort anyway. If we do anything at all, it can only be because we both believe it?s worth the trouble. I don?t have a plan, Anthony. I certainly don?t know what you want. I?m only writing because I?m plagued by the thought that things are wrong the way they are. I?m sorry to force you to think about this again, and ask you to take a position. But, I am unable to turn the page as things are. At worst, I get a blank sheet of paper in the mail. At best, a phone call, an optimistic voice. Of course, that is my hope. Maybe we still have a chance for something good between us. Maybe not, maybe it?s all blown to hell irretrievably. I just don?t want to look back and wonder that a small gesture, a tiny effort might have made the difference. Do you?
Jack
Moral of the story: Love the ones yer with -
2hp
Did he send you a blank sheet of paper or was he indifferent? That's a very strong appeal for him to reconsider. 
]
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