My father remarried and had three children. I barely knew them.
However, when the eldest of them reached out to me in my teens, I spent some time with her. We both were struggling with home life. We both were misdiagnosed with bipolar disorder. We could relate.
But things got tough. I moved in with them temporarily. That lasted about a day. The two of us wanted to get out of there, so we snuck out. Her mom threatened to charge me with kidnapping, even though we just went to a cousin’s house and I left her there when I had to go to work the next day.
There was no going back there after that and I lost touch with her.
I never really grieved about not being close with her. We had our moments, and then I just kind of disappeared…like I always seem to do. It’s sad to me that I am able to detach from people and relationships without hesitation.
A long time ago, I learned of the temporary and sometimes volatile nature of relationships. I also observed from my own treatment and how family shunned my mom, that family doesn’t mean anything. We just happen to share genetic material. It doesn’t mean empathy, love, nurturing, and any of those wholesome things that people want to believe.
I learned that love is a very individual thing, which transcends familial ties, race, gender, religion, etc. Love is a choice we make. Do I react with love or do I react in fear? It’s our most basic emotional function.
I feel the loss because I know that sibling relationships can be meaningful and that I should be there for her…and at the same time, I can barely function in my own life. I know all I have to do is reach out to her, but I don’t see the point in it. I don’t know anything about her anymore, nor does she about me. That is a reaction of fear. When I am ready to choose love, I will make contact.
The Daedalus 