this morning #1573.
this morning, we were back around the breakfast table. me, mom & dad. the ghost of my brother hovering above us. as i shoveled cereal into my mouth, mom & dad took side jabs at each other in between bites. at first, it was just the regular stupid stuff. cracks about his manliness. swipes at her about her “chronic complaining.” when she switched up her game & started taking aim at the “feckless” way he’s acted ever since we lost my brother, i lost it. pushed back my chair in a huff. stood up. said some stuff to her that i’m not proud of. made her cry. if i’m being honest though, it felt kinda nice. i’ve been sitting by idly letting the death fester. she’s just going to hold it over us if we let her.