I thought I was special. That I was special to him. That he cared for me like he didnt for anyone else. Even my mother and sister. But I always sensed that he really loved my sister. Perhaps that’s standard sibling jealousy. But others spoke of it also, his love and adoration for her. I don’t think I was really actually jealous, not sure why. Perhaps because I had his secret attention that no one else did. I don’t think I understood his love of her and his love of me.
When did I see it differently? When did I see that what we did was not ok? I knew it was a secret, I wasn’t sure from who. Actually, yes, I knew at some point it was a secret not for my mother. I thought my brother knew, just because he was my brother I guess and that he knew what my father could be like in a rage, so I guess I thought he knew other things. He probably did, but not how I thought about it then.
I think I thought that people did kind of know, but I’m not sure how or why, just by being me. By being there, by talking, by getting in trouble, by not trying hard enough. But that no one said anything because it was a secret because no one knew – so doesn’t make sense.
Please help me get this out. I need/want to get these words out. But maybe I don’t, maybe I just think that because I know I can’t and therefore know I will fail which will prove I am hopeless and doomed and not worth it?
If I Talk 