To my big brother, or at least you used to be...

I stole from you. There’s no way around that. I stole $250 from you and bought a shit ton of booze and pills and partied my ass off for two days. You know this because when you made claims about the money my uncle told you I was doing drugs. I was wrong to steal from you. I was wrong to use that money to party. I was wrong, but so were you. See, when my uncle told you how fucked up I was, you were supposed to want to help me. You were supposed to try to save me. You were supposed to try. Instead, you bailed. You cut me off and I still haven’t heard from you.

            You and I were never that close when I was growing up. That was mostly due to our 20 year age difference and the fact that for most of my formative years we had little to no communication. However, for about 2 years before that night we had built a stronger bond. I counted on you. I trusted you. I spent most of my time at your house. I saw you like a brother and a father rolled into one. In fact, it was you who told me to rely on you since our dad couldn’t be there for me.

I fucked up, and you will never know how sorry I am to have lost you. You fucked up, and you will never know how much you hurt me. One day I will go to your house with my head held high and my life put back together. I will hand you $250 and a copy of this letter. I will pay my debt and feel free to tell you exactly how you broke my heart and our bond. After that, I will walk away from you like you did from me.

With love,

Cristi, your youngest sister.


Update: My brother and I have both taken the first steps towards a reconciliation. I'm not sure if things will ever be the way they were before but I am very glad to have him back in my life.