Half My Life Without My Brother

I lost my older brother almost 15 years ago. I had already outlived him by the age of 16.
Now I’m sitting at home, with no job and no way of contributing to my household. My anxiety, PTSD and depression reared it’s hurtful desires to consume me once again. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of my brother. He was my best friend. The day that I got married I always pictured my brothers smiling face staring at me while my life became whole. I am afraid that it just simply doesn’t happen for someone like me. I will never be whole. There will always be a part of me that is broken over the loss. There are some days where I still can’t believe he is gone. I search for his face everywhere I go, even though I watched him being buried. I thought he was playing the cruelest joke on me when I saw him laying there dressed up. It wasn’t until they told me that they had to close the casket and I kissed him gently on the forehead that I finally realized he was actually gone and left me to take care of mom and dad by myself. When have I had enough pain in my life?

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