I took the leap yesterday, it was scary & I nearly died the second I hit the submit button ... but I got thru it.
I wanna talk about my brother, so here goes ...

It's strange to call him my brother, by the time I was old enough to realise I had one, he had already moved out of the family home. I knew his name and I knew he was my brother but that was it. My parents decided they were going away for a holiday and I wasn't going with them, I was elated, time away from my father was a blessing. My mother told me I was going to stay with my brother for the 6 weeks they'd be away. Happy days.

His girlfriend (later my sister-in-law) and I got on straight away, she would bring me chocolate & coke when she came home from work. One day she was doing the laundry and noticed blood in my underwear. I told her I had fallen over and cut myself. She didn't believe me and told my brother. That night my brother started asking questions, straight away I knew he knew what was happening with my father and me, but I lied and said everything was fine ... I was beginning to hate my brother, everytime we were alone he would start asking questions. One night he stopped with the questions and started telling me what happened between him and my father ... it was too much for me, I started crying and told him. He held me, soothed me, told me it was normal. I don't know what made me do it, but I touched him, he didn't tell me to stop, I performed oral sex on him that night. I was 13, he was 23, but I felt like I was the one in charge. We had a sexual relationship until I was 18, when I got married.

My father stopped abusing me when I was 16, not because I made it stop, but because he caught me and my brother together, I died a thousand deaths that night, my father never said a word, just stood there glaring at the two us for what seemed like a week, then he turn around, walked out of my bedroom and never came near me or spoke to me until my brothers funeral 7 yrs later.

I left home a few days later and moved in with my brother & his wife. There was only occasional sex between my brother and I when I moved there, 5 or 6 times in the 2 yrs I lived with him.

I married the first girl that took an interest in me, I was 18.
We moved away from the city and away from my family. The marriage was over inside of 16 months. She went back to the city and I stayed put. I didn't want or need to see my family again. Then my brother committed suicide.

I was 23, I went home for the first time in ages for the funeral.
My sister-in-law gave me a letter that my brother had written to me but never sent, in it he apologized for abusing me - I was shocked, I never considered what happened between me and my brother abuse. I never showed the letter to anyone, not even when my sister-in-law begged me to show her.

It took ages for me to get my head around the fact that I had not caused my brothers suicide. Even longer to realize that I wasn't in love with my brother and that what happened between us was wrong. I still struggle with this, he always treated me well, always made sure I was comfortable with doing stuff & always made sure my needs where met. I never felt vilified or was made to feel disgusting or sub-human like with my father.

It's pretty f*cked up, but then again so am I.

Keep Smilin'