“You have three unheard messages. First unheard message sent today at 2:37 am. ‘Cheese, it’s…uh…well its The Mass. Look…um…I don’t really know what to say except…well, that I’m sorry, I’m outside of your building (he starts crying). I left your girlfriend, I couldn’t do it. I want to hang my fucking worthless piece of shit self from this tree so you see me in the morning when you go to work. I hate myself, Cheese, I am so sorry...I just, I don’t…I have no excuse and I don’t expect you to forgive me…I just needed to say it…Cheese, I’m sorry…You are my brother and I betrayed you.’ End of message, to delete this message press 7 or press 9 to save it in the archives.”
I pressed 9.
There were two more after it.
This puts me in a position that I don’t know how to handle. I heard the sincerity in his voice. I heard the pain. I want to say to him that it is ok, to tell him that I don’t hate him. I love the kid, even though he betrayed me, causing some of the worst pain I have felt. I took him in when he was homeless, covered the rent when he couldn’t afford it, sat with him when he cried about women, proofread (ok just plain wrote) his philosophy papers, took him to the hospital, walked him home drunk and took one too many shots to the face for him.
Why would he betray me?
That question I will never be able to answer and I don’t want his explanation. He fucked Meg because she is (and was to me) the hottest thing on this planet. There is much to be desired when it comes to her, that I do not blame him. I blame him for stabbing me, even though we are brothers. I harbor resentment for that. I love him like a brother, everything I have done for him; he repaid in full. It is because he is my brother that I will, against my better judgment, call him after work tonight.
He was the one friend who was the closest to knowing the real P. I slowly gained enough trust in him to tell him things I had never said, before this blog. He was one of my three closest friends, but the only one who I really worried about. I used to talk to his mom on the phone when I was still in school, tell her how he was struggling and how they could help. I mean it; I was his big brother.
I will give him the forgiveness he asks for but does not deserve. I will not give it to him on a condition. I will not make him feel bad. I will not say it without meaning it. I will not do it half-heartedly and I will not take it lightly. I am going to tell him one thing, and I am only going to say it once. He will know how serious I am when I say...
…I love you, you are my brother, but if you ever betray me again…I will kill you.