I’m sorry, but only because I want you to be sorry too. I guess that means I’m not truly sorry. You’re my brother and my best friend and yet, you’re a stranger to me. You should never have let someone come between us but I suppose I should never have let her get to me that badly. We could go back and forth – who is more at fault. Every day I want to talk to you about it but you can’t swallow your pride and I can’t take all of the blame.
I’m sorry that I can’t be happy for you. I’m sorry that I can’t sit with you on the porch and listen without bias. I’m sorry I can’t support your decision. I’m sorry that I let this all hurt me bad enough that we haven’t spoken since before your birthday. I’m sorry that I can’t let myself remember all our happy memories and good times because they are clouded by feelings of betrayal.
I’m sorry I don’t know what to do now or where to go from here. Every time I walk past your room I hang in a liminal space between wanting to hate you and knowing that I can’t.
I’m left with a loaf of your bread molding in the fridge and pictures of us as sunburnt kids.