I need to let it out.
I've been haunted by this for the two years I've been honest with my feelings, and for much longer before I understood how I felt. At first I thought I could ignore how I felt, maybe it'd go away. And I'd be normal. Nothing would change. But the more I ignored it, the more it reared it's head on me, the more it ate me up inside. It still does, greatly so. It's to the point I seriously am considering ending my life, to end this pain. This horrible excruciating pain. The sort that you feel at an indescribable loss of something or someone you hold very near and dear to you. It's made me a shell of who I used to be. Sure, I can still smile and laugh, but it's an act. I feel dead inside, dark and cold and alone. I don't have anyone to turn to about these feelings, how can I? It's disgusting and gross and unnatural. I shouldn't feel this way, but I do. I can't help who I love. Please don't judge me, whoever reads this... I'm an 18 year old male, and through my childhood I lived with my mother, and my sister who's my senior by three years. When I was about a few months old, out father walked out on us, so I've never met him, and my sister only has the vaguest memory of him. I guess it's because I didn't have a father figure growing up that I started to act out and be rebellious. I'd talk back and be rude and crass. Because our father left, out mother had to raise us herself, and I guess the stress got to her so she would go to the pub to the point she passed out and had to be taken home by her friends. So my sister and I would end up home alone a lot. She raised me because no one else would. I could always look up to her when I needed to. She's always there for me. But our mother wasn't. So I'd disrespect her a lot. And I guess because of that she decided I was a lost cause, so she rarely paid attention to me, instead focusing on my sister. That made me angrier. Depressed. So I acted out more out of spite, but that only made her ignore me more except to tell me I'm a failure. The teachers said I was a failure, I didn't have any friends. I was all alone. Except my sister. She still loved me. Cared about me. She was the only one who did. So she was the only one I was honest to, the only one I opened up to, the only one I cared about. It was small things at first, I paid no attention to it. I'd feel my heart flutter a bit when she was nice. I'd blush some when she randomly hugged me or told me she loved me. It'd pick me up emotionally when she encouraged me, never gave up on me. Then it started to grow stronger. I'd catch myself thinking about her in an un-sisterly way. When she hugged me, felt her body on mine, I'd react like a hormonal boy would. I'd hide it the best I could, but I think she may have noticed but didn't say anything. I felt so wrong. I feel so wrong. I feel disgusting, unnatural. As time wore on, it only got worse. I'd think more and more about her, how I wanted to be with her, and 'be' with her. I wanted to run away with her, live alone where no one would know that we're related. But I know it can't be that way. It never could. I mean, there's no way she would ever feel the same way about me. No way she ever could. I'm just her little brother. Nothing more. And I hate that. I hate that we're related. Why couldn't we be neighbours? Or something. I don't know. When she left for university, I hoped that the time apart would maybe extinguish my feelings, but it hasn't. It's much worse. Now that I can't see her every day, she's almost always on my mind. From the moment I wake up til the moment I fall asleep, I'm thinking of her. Of how beautiful she is. She's truly stunning. She's smart and athletic, caring and funny. She's in one of the best schools in the state, which I leave out for anonymity reasons. I love her. I love my sister. I love her far beyond what a brother should. She's my everything. My life, my reason for living. And there's no way she could ever feel the same way. So I keep it to myself. This here is the first time I've mentioned it outside my own thoughts. I hate myself. I hate my feelings, my thoughts, everything about me. The only reason I haven't killed myself to alleviate this pain is because I know how much it'll hurt her. Even in death, I could never put her through that pain. I love her too much. So I have to keep living, so she doesn't lose her beloved little brother, regardless of how much it pains him to breathe. To wake up every morning knowing he'll always be alone in his feelings. And I understand now that these feelings are eternal. They'll never disappear. Even after I'm long dead, this love will still remain in some form or another. Thank you for taking the time to read what I've written, what I so desperately had to get off my chest.