It took a week, but my brother and I decided that you cannot return home or whatever concept is related to it. Living together as adults was a disasterous experiment. And in the end, it was good he left before our semi-relationship was sacrificed further. It does take two to tango and in this accountability, I realized that I assumed a lot.
Assumption #1: Living together will mean we will spend more time together. Not so much. He never came home Friday night and the most I saw him Saturday was 10 minutes before and after he took a shower. When he was home, he was secluded in his room with video games. We never did have dinner together or even watch television.
Assumption #2: My brother has matured. See the video game comment above. Also you could have buried my illusions in the piles of clothes on the floor.
Assumption #3: We can communicate. Yeah, do you count the minutes when he's standing with his hand on the door leaving?
On Monday night he came home, stood as far away from me as possible, and announced he was moving out. I already knew this because my Father and I had just hung up the phone. Dad was wondering why my brother called him in tears wanting to crash on the couch. All I did was ask that his room be picked up by tonight. Man, I'm such a meanie!
My brother's biggest argument was that I acted too much like a mother to him. I was too concerned about his life (however, it is hard not to be when he dumps his whole life drama on your lap the first night he's there). What is the funniest part to me is that he decided to return home to Mom.
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