Dear Little Brother

Dear Little Brother,

I love you very much, and I'm glad that you're no longer in Louisiana with no money or food to eat. However, I really hope that you do not intend to live here. You put an enormous strain on everyone in this house when you are here. You take and take and take, and never think to contribute anything. You worry our Grandmother to the point she gets physical symptoms. You make our Grandfather's already high blood pressure worse. You are a trigger for my anxiety and bipolar disorders, and you send me into a state that makes me contemplate a world without me in it. You bring drugs into the house, and the tray of seed starters you brought back from Louisiana with you? It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what you're growing in them. You borrow our Grandfather's truck, his only means of getting the wood he uses to heat the house, and drive it while hopped up on pills. You traipse in and out of the house at all hours of the night, interrupting everyone's sleep. I could continue on, but I won't.

I love you so much, Little Brother, that I can't even tell you, but until you grow the fuck up and drop the self centered, greedy druggie routine, you will forever be a toxin to those who love you. I know that coming from me this all seems pretty hypocritical, but I changed. I realized how much I was fucking up those who love me. I made myself into a better person so that their love wasn't in vain. I can only hope that one day you can see that you're worth so much more than you're allowing yourself to be, and make the same changes. I don't want to lose you, but if you continue the route you're on now, I fear I will.

Love Always,
Aimee