As the years go by, I'm starting to see more and more of the missteps, and I'm making a mad dash to shore up all the deficiencies, but everything I've relied on, everything I've built up, they're all collapsing around me, and I don't know if I even want to try to hold on.
I'm a terrible friend, unable to keep my own pain out of my social interactions. It floats to the surface, and it hurts those around me. I see it happen, but I'm so consumed by self-pity that I don't even bother to stop it. I become spiteful, and look for the littlest reason to lash out, because I can't handle the happiness of those surrounding me. I see the errors, but I just let it go, because I can't control the few things in life that I WANT to control. It feels like I've given up, and it's somewhat worrisome that I'm not any more concerned than I already am.
I've spent so many years trying to help him, but the effort's always been halfhearted. His pain, his sorrow, his need for comfort defines me as a person. I can't imagine myself as having grown up happy, as being happy. I've shaped my existence around his flaws, his legacy, and it feels too ingrained in my mind to change now. I suppose I enjoy playing the victim, set upon by his burdens, my burdens by proxy. It gives me something to live for in life, acting as the lifeline that can never quite pull in the hapless victim, but helps to keep them afloat for a little while longer. It sets me apart from my peers, in it's own small, insignificant way. It sounds idiotic, but I feel unique, even though I use my brother's shadow to define myself.
I know I shouldn't let personal matters affect my social standings, but it's getting so hard to keep the two separated.
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