Between mom and dad's divorce up until 2012, we had a pretty solid relationship. It wasn't without its usual sibling clashes. You did your best being the de facto mother while our father provided for three boys. You were literally working it; having multiple part-time jobs solidified your case. Even working for Greater Media Detroit, being a board-op at WMGC, WCSX, you still worked in the food service industry.
Your family on both sides were pulling for you, giving you their passionate, undying support. You had a girlfriend who saw to it that you weren't slipping. After multiple years of living with our aunt and mother, you two proceeded to get an apartment together at the Harbours in September 2012. Life was great.
Somewhere, however, during the 2012 year, something went wrong. I don't know how or what precipitated your fall from grace akin to what your Wolverines went through under the years of Rich Rod and Brady Hoke.
You "helped yourself" to the prize vault at WCSX, and began the downfall that summer. Our father warned you about these activities when your would randomly appear at the house with game tickets, concert tickets, bumper stickers and the like. Well, you eventually got caught, and fucked up a damn good gig you would've had at the classic rock station in Detroit.
Not helping your cause was pitting our father against his siblings beginning roughly in August of that year when you were confronted with the heinous crime of stealing from our aunt and uncle. It caused a lot of unnecessary tension that could've easily been resolved had you told the truth and confessed to stealing. Our father, in his last year, had a frosty relationship with his brothers and sisters defending a liar.
The slide continued into the new year of 2013, when you admitted to taking money from your girlfriend at your place. You couldn't take it anymore, and decided to O.D. on Vicodin. We found you in your beater car, and admitted you to a hospital.
Afterwards, you lived with me the end of my senior year, bringing tension and bullshit into a time in my life that was supposed to be my coronation. In short, you RUINED the end of my high school career.
RUINED.
IT.
That summer, you were caught stealing your own money, amounting to $1,000. That got you kicked out of our father's fiance's house. Lying about it only ruined your chances of living there ever again.
And you reamed me out for being an "overly sensitive little bitch?" Listen, you ruined that time of my life up so bad that I cannot forgive you.
So, you were back with our mother around the time of our brothers' wedding, and you decided to be standoffish.
In the time afterwards, you stole personal information from our mother, including credit and debit card numbers. At least you admitted to it; a sign of respect.
You were in good standing with the family for the first few months of 2014; even after a fight with our mother, you were allowed to move back into the aunt's house you stole from just two years earlier. Everything seemed normal...
...until you messed up, and got caught stealing pills from our aunt that summer. The cycle never ends, does it?
Nope, when you went back to mom's to move in with me, you did the exact same shit. Stealing Adderall and Xanax from me for those five months made my life nothing short of misery. Thankfully, our brother got me out of the thieving hands of you.
Or so I thought.
All seemed to be forgiven with us, until I most recently caught you breaking into my place the other day. Before that, it was reported you were sleeping on the stoop of my place. I didn't think much of it, until I saw a decent amount of Adderall had left my house.
It's done.
Our relationship is shot; no amount of shit "miracles" you attempt to pull will never revive the relationship we once had.
I knew it was a bad mistake allowing you into not only my apartment, but my life; the black cloud you presented since STILL has NOT left me. The black cloud meaning bad luck I've had since.
Goodbye. Forever.
P.S. I'm never going to clear your name to the family.
