MESSED UP - completed!

46 - Thanksgiving 2010

46 Thanksgiving 2010

Ian and I leave the party. I'm driving home. Ian keeps silent the whole time as if he's embarrassed that I have found out about him being gay. When he said I don't know him, he meant exactly this. I didn't think he was gay. I don't know my baby brother at all.

"I meant it, Ian," I say, and he looks at me, parting his look from the window. "You don't have to hide who you are. I love you."

He looks down. "I've always hidden who I am."

"You shouldn't. What year is it, for God's sake?!"

"Dad's still living in the ice age."

"He is. But he has to get used to it."

He looks back at me again. "Are you joking?"

"Why?"

"He talks about gays as if they're aliens. Abomination, he likes to call them."

He tries to separate himself from the group by saying 'Them'. How would others accept him when he hasn't accepted himself?

"He can't force you to be something you're not," I say. He says nothing and again stares at the window. "Did he force you to date that Caroline?" I ask.

"It's Tom. I-I went out with a girl they asked me to date. Her name was Caroline. Of course, it didn't work out. But I saved Tom as Caroline."

"They? As in Dad and Linda?" I ask, and he nods. "Unbelievable. He has to accept. He has no other choice."

He doesn't comment, and I notice he's wiping his tears without making a noise, so I don't find out he's crying. Something aches inside me. We arrive home, and he instantly takes his shoes off.

"I'm gonna go sleep," he says, walking to his room. Before he reaches the room, he stops and turns to me.

"You know?" He says, and I look at him. "I was always mad at you for leaving." He stays where he is, and I stay silent. "I was furious with you. Not for escaping. But for leaving me."

He walks a few steps toward me. "I was alone there for a long time. Linda wasn't my mom. I had to accept her as my mom because I had no one. No friend. No siblings. My father was an alcoholic who never talked to me. I was the fat weirdo who was bullied all the years through school. Coming out was the least of my concerns. I was busy trying to survive."

I walk to him and stand a foot away from him. He's crying silently. Seeing him like this breaks me.

"Thanksgiving 2010," I say lowly, and he wipes his tears, looking at me curiously. I take a deep breath and walk toward the couch. I gesture for him to come and sit by my side, and he does so.

"Okay. It might be huge for tonight," I say, trying to prepare Ian for what I'm about to say, "since we both went through a roller coaster of emotions. Are you ready to hear this?"

He nods. "I am."

"Alright. You might not remember it because you were a kid. It was Thanksgiving, but we wouldn't celebrate like others. Because Dad was... well, he was a fucking Grinch for every holiday. He made life so emotionless that the plates on our dining table had more life in them than any of us had in ourselves. At least more than I did."

He listens carefully, and I continue.

"Mom was too sick, and she was almost always asleep. She used to throw up everything she ate, so she stopped eating at some point. But I fed her because she wouldn't turn down my hand."

He keeps listening without interrupting. He has been waiting for this explanation for a long time.

"She was asleep for lunch, so I didn't wake her, but I made sure I would help her eat for dinner. It was night. You were at some school program. I grabbed a plate and filled it with some food. It was mashed potatoes and some vegetables. I was feeling a little less depressed because it was Thanksgiving. I opened the door of the room mom was staying in, and I..." I drift off.