I miss you. I miss your rancid, trashy streets. I miss the buzz the traffic that seems to be nonstop at all hours of the night. I miss the crimes that were portrayed on the news that shocked this Southern naive child who knew nothing about the big city. I miss the people who would stare at you strangely if you spoke to them in the grocery line. I miss the escape that Cleveland was to me in most my trying time. I miss the best friend I met there who I know will always be there through thick and thin.
Still, I sit here and remember why I ran to you, why I came to you as an escape, why it was so necessary for me to be there. I remember that the South became a place of disgust after my sister's suicide, and I needed a safe place to hide, and Cleveland you hid me well, and I will always be grateful.
However, what if the same subject lingers in the air, and there is no escape for me this time. What if it isn't just words and he decides to take his life. How could I manage to live without a brother that I consider my first born, and what can i do to stop these thoughts he is having?
I failed with Melissa. She is gone, dead, rotting in a grave, and just a memory that I hold onto with every piece of my heart. I can't loose someone else the same way, yet I don't know what to do. I don't know if I am strong enough to save him or if he even wants to be saved.
For the first time in a very long time, I am so frightened that my bones shake with terror while I continue to wear the mask that everything is okay when honestly Im terrified that a call will come like it did with Melissa telling me that such a beautiful life has ended.
Melissa was my sister, and her suicide hurt. It still hurts. This is my brother, who I practically raised. he called me Momma before he did his own Momma. This would be like loosing a child. I can't psychology deal with such a tragedy again in my life. The stitches haven't been removed from the last one, and that was 15 years ago.
I don't know what to do, but I do know this. I will do everything that any parent would do. I am moving my brother from my father's house, and I am bringing him to live with me so that I can watch him, and hopefully i can help him. Meanwhile, I will continue to wish that all this was just some terrible fucked up nightmare that never happened.........the same way I did with my sister.
Why is suicide so prevalent in my life? Was it meant to be me, like the Final destination movies? Should it have been me instead of such a bright young girl with a future ahead of her who would have never had to worry about telling her parents she was gay, or finding a way to right her fucked up childhood? I'll never know those answers because my days of contemplating suicide are over....but they aren't for someone I love as much as I love myself, my brother, my baby, the one I potty trained, taught to read, taught all the animals too, taught to answer the phone "Whoop There It Is". What is life without him except misery?
There is no escape. Im here. Im staying here, and I am going to fight this long hard battle by his side. I hear his screams. I hear his misery. I just hope I cant quiet the voices that are tormenting him. he doesn't have to say anything, I know what he is thinking. I am here, and this time Im not running away.
