unfolding laundry

ah. family. what do you do with them?
it hurts.
you think you might know what might be going on with them--especially so because of the collaborated associations of the years and years, right? you're so confident knowing certain things, and then when you discover that that might not be the case, you gasp! i'm gasping in surprised confusion.
i'm not sure what to do with this confusion. i don't even know if it 's something to categorize. i'm fairly certain though--that that the 'offending' party would not appreciate that i am categorizing such things.
thinking about all of this almost makes me cry. this is not because of my 오빠's plausible actions, but because i feel that certain things should not burden your soul in this way. and because of the secrecy. why hide these things?

why are people so hung up?

so, we were just looking at each other after another one of our stupid, idiotic, idiocies... his face was soft. childlike. he reached out his hand to grasp mine. and i refused. why?--it just felt like it'd be too much. like i'd be giving into him again and accepting an apology for a crime that would happen over and over. (it's definitely been more than 70 times 7 times!!). i had no stomach for it in that moment. does that make be a cruel witch? to not fully accept an extended apology?

God. we've got issues.

so. baby steps--because some kinds of success is worth all the failures along the way, right?

my brother and i used to quietly confer about sneaking out before our parents went to sleep. i would read books until i thought the coast was clear. he would listen for me in the creaking in the upstairs hallway. so, in the middle of the night darkness, we would carefully tread down the memorized map of the stairs where the squeaks were most muted. quickly pulling open the back door, we'd pause, hold our breaths, and wonder if our parents would rise to investigate. they never did. (well, once, but i wasn't with him that time.)
then we'd sit on the stoop or the sidewalk--a little ways away from home if we were feeling a little more edgy. we talked and talked and smoked cigarettes and the occasional joint. towards then end, it was just me smoking the joints and the hitters. we discussed many of those bigger questions while i was expanding (dulling?) my mind.

today, i am sheepishly remembering how depressed i was when he was leaving for college. he was my confidante. the person who 'got' me. we shared everything--he knew about all those hopes and angst and the things that i was hiding or didn't share with my parents and "friends". he worried intensely, extensively about some of the choices i was making and the mental paths that i was deliberately beginning to skip down.

but then we drifted in different directions and then he started thinking and acting in ways that made absolutely no sense to me. nor i to him, for that matter. i struggled and fought against the identity of innocent little sparrow. in retrospect, i sometimes wish i hadn't discovered and explored beyond certain boundaries. hard truths led to regrettable consequences that i still live in today. so, maybe he was right sometimes. damnit.
my brother and i eventually began to disagree--heatedly, and my attitude towards him developed into one of sneering arrogance.
how disgusting and silly of me? who am i and what is the nature of my lowly thoughts? i have no right to arbitrate what is good or right or beautiful. i am an unforgiving monster.

but he came and visited me in Seoul--on a visit of seemingly misguided and confusing intentions. we had little (and large) tiffs almost every time we saw each other. he cut me down with subconscious inconsiderations and i exacted my revenge with my endless arsenal of sharp discontent.

i just don't agree with you! can't we just leave it?
if you'll just let me finish talking--
you've been talking for 45 minutes!
but you haven't given me a chance to get to the point.
i am going to pull my hair out!

many of my silvery greys have seemed to have faded back to black, but these pointless and roving conversations were making them sprout again. why was he making it so difficult? in a moments of frustrated exhaustion, i would ask him: why can't you just be nice to me? i know you're kind and loving to other people. why not me?
he was chagrinned by this. and he admitted some things. he was actually weak at times. we began to slowly--very slowly shift in our attitudes toward each other.
so maybe he's not a robot? or an alien?

but in the course of our ever-deepening discourse (the first we've had in many years), i was struck with an absurd musing. it was completely absurd, but it was still there.
my other sweetie brother gave me a cardiac shock a few years back with his revelations of certain things. so i asked this brother a question that bled along that same, preposterous vein.

_____________________?
i don't know. i don't think i want to answer that.
why? why wouln't you be able to answer that question?
i... just can't...
why? it's such a peculiar thing... his head was hidden behind a turquise shelter. i almost felt sorry for him, but i was so curious. it seemed almost nonsensical to hide such a trivial thing. but i guess siblings might hide certain things from each other based upon circumpect.
i'm just not going to force you to talk about it. 오빠, either way you answer, it makes you more human.
i still don't think i want to talk about that.
what the fuck? (i'm human. unsatiated wondering.) why can't you answer such a question? it's really nothing. but... if you look @ it that way... i love you. dearly. and there is nothing you could say that would change that.

eitherway, his silence made him more human.