I should have been a better brother

I messed up, okay? Big time. And it's been eating me alive for years. My younger brother, Liam… we weren’t always close, but we were brothers. That should have meant something, right? More than it did, anyway.

Growing up, I was the 'golden child'. Did well in school, sports came easy, got all the attention from my parents. Liam, he struggled. Learning disabilities, shy, awkward… he was always in my shadow. And instead of helping him, I kind of… leaned into it. I made fun of him, not brutally, but enough to sting. Little digs about his clothes, his grades, the way he talked. Just typical older brother crap, I told myself. Boys will be boys.

But it wasn’t just that. It was the lack of… anything else. I never stood up for him when other kids picked on him. I never invited him to hang out with my friends. I never just… talked to him like a normal human being, you know? I was too busy being cool, being popular, being… a jerk.

Then, when we were in high school, things got worse. He started experimenting with drugs. Nothing major, just weed at first, but it escalated. He got caught a few times, and my parents were furious. I remember them yelling at him, grounding him, threatening him with all sorts of punishments. And me? I just watched. I judged. I told myself he was making his own choices, that it wasn't my responsibility.

He needed me. He needed someone to talk to, someone to understand, someone to just… be there. And I wasn't. I was too wrapped up in my own little world to see what was happening to him.

He eventually got clean, thank God. But the damage was done. We drifted apart. He moved out as soon as he could, went to a college far away. We barely speak now. Christmas, birthdays… a quick phone call, polite but distant. Like we're strangers.

I know I can't go back and change things. I know I can't erase the years of neglect and subtle cruelty. But God, I wish I could. I wish I had been a better brother. I wish I had been the person he needed me to be.

I try to tell myself that everyone makes mistakes, that I was young and stupid. But that doesn't make it any easier. The guilt is always there, a dull ache in my chest. I see him sometimes, in my mind's eye, that little boy with the big, sad eyes, and I just want to hug him and tell him I'm sorry. Really sorry.

I don't know if he'll ever forgive me. I don't even know if I deserve to be forgiven. But I hope, someday, somehow, we can find a way to reconnect. To be brothers again. Not just in name, but in heart.

I'm trying to be a better person now. I volunteer at a local youth center, trying to be a positive influence on kids who might be going through similar struggles. It's not the same as fixing things with Liam, but it's something. A small way to try and make amends for the damage I caused.

Maybe writing this will help a little. Maybe just getting it off my chest will ease the burden, even if only for a moment. I just hope, somewhere out there, Liam knows that I think about him, that I regret my actions, and that I truly, deeply, want to make things right. I carry this every day, and maybe one day I can tell him. Maybe.