And when the topic of family drama comes up over drinks after work and someone jokes about being the responsible one, I tell my story in broad strokes, always ending in the same place: with the moment I chose a one-way ticket and a locked credit report over a lifetime of cleaning up other people’s messes.
Somewhere back in Texas, my brother is living in a rented room. No house. No job in his old field. A strange relationship with parents who finally ran out of things to sacrifice for him.
And as far as I know, he still tells anyone who will listen that I betrayed him. But that story no longer has any power over me because the reality is simple.
I did not ruin his life by saying no. He did that on his own. And the only thing I destroyed was his ability to keep using me as his safety net.
