Dear...

Dear Brother

            Dear little one,

I am insane. You've always looked up to me and today I want to tell you that you've looked up to insanity for 11 years. That boy that once protected you from gloom is afraid from darkness. That boy that once made his best to help you in every homework actually feels inferior. That boy that encourages you to find your talents doesn't even know his own. That boy that loves you doesn't even feels loved. Madness is not any disease; it can be contagious. My insanity has provoked your own, and today, look at us, me finding a taxi at 8 pm after discussing deep issues with my best friend to fetch you from therapy. The psychologist has been very clear: I am the cause of your madness. You've admired me and you still do. I've shown you disdain, but not to what you are, but only projecting the disdain I feel for myself against you. I've shown you my anger and hate. I want to say I'm sorry... But I can't find a way to fix what I've done...

I want to try to help. I want to be a better brother... a true example you deserve. Being admired is the greatest responsibility ever: you must put an example others can follow. You are better than admiring me... you can do better than this, better than me. Therapy intended to find a neurological issue for your learning. Instead, it found an emotional block, which of course, bared my name too. Therapy will eventually get rid of your madness, and that madness, is me.

I love you, dearest. I love you the most. And I love you so much doing this is my greatest regret.