The Brother story

Funny how some people mean absolutely nothing to you. My brother is one of them - no hard feelings, really, and I seriously hope that he does not take me wrong if he ever reads this, but if that reincarnation story of having both of us in the same family again to work out our karmas is true, I guess we will keep on coming back for a while, because this time it was a real disaster! We did not work out at all.

The family story is short and simple: mom and dad did their thing and she got a belly three times - first time to Paulo Sérgio, second time to Sérgio Luiz, and third time to moi, Luís Fernando (what's with the name repetition, I do not know, maybe a trend they were trying to set or something, but I guess it did not work out). The first one died at birth or a few days later, I suppose he would be 3 years older than my older brother, making us 8 years apart. As he did not live, there is no story there. As for the other one, there is also no story there, because as far as I remember, he was never part of my life. He never participated anything with or to me, he never shared, never motivated and whenever he could, he would even make my life miserable (even more than it already was, because as far as I remember, I had always found the boys more interesting than the girls, so there was always a struggle in my head), but that is another topic for some other time. It can be rather complex.

Going back to the brotherhood, he was never present in my life, therefore I grew up rather alone, meaning without a brother. I had my mother though, who apparently seemed to be good company.

Fights, competitions, being put down, is all I recall. We became acquaintances when we both were in our 20s. But it did not last long, because he got married, I came out, and as coming out apparently meant that I had a contagious disease, therefore he withdrew himself, and his family away from my life.

Yes, I am over it, but I think it is always worth mentioning things which have set some kinds of milestones in our lives. Good or bad.

We still do not speak to each other, even after my father's death. I was not in Brazil at the time, so he took care of everything by himself. There are some Will and Testament complications, but he deals with my representative in Brazil for those matters.

He is married with two children - Felipe and Gabriela, who I never met, but who know about my existance.

A little bird told me that my nephew was learning Italian with a friend of mine (yeah, small world - she is a lesbian), and apparently he always questioned about "his uncle"...

Who's to blame?