DBrother and I have a serious talk

I have mentioned what an irritating SOAB OBrother is. Although I must say that he is visibly doing his level best not to get on my nerves. The brothers realise what is unfolding around them and they're not insensitive to my situation. Well, beyond imposing it on me against my will, but anyway...

DBrother is altogether different. For want of a different reason to hang this on, I'd quite like to put it down to star signs. (Groan!) I am a scorpio and can almost guarantee that I will form close bonds with other scorpios (or find I hate them until we both realise we are scorpios and can laugh about it and then get on) cancerians and pisceans, of which he is the latter. I'm not quite sure how to describe why I get on with these signs except to say that my experience of them thus far is that we feel things at a similar depth which makes communication easier from the off, somehow. There's a lot of stuff that doesn't need to be expressed, so you can cut to the chase. I appreciate that some readers will consider this total BS.

I can talk to DBrother about how I'm feeling and how I'm seeing things and he seems to understand. I don't need to find ten different ways of putting it. The communication between us is relatively easy and uncomplicated, and doesn't have to forged through a mire of antagonism or self-protective misunderstanding. Unlike OBrother, DBrother thinks before he speaks. He doesn't constantly court conflict and one-upmanship. He is a philosphical thinker. We actually have a reasonable amount to discuss. New order politics, for example. Somewhat refreshing, I have to say.

Strangely enough, I have barely spoken to him for almost the entire seventeen years I have been with OH. An argument I had with him quite early on established a malhumour between us - more on my side than his - that I allowed to fester and perpetuate. I always interpreted his deportment and body-language as that of an elder sibling bearing down on the others. I didn't like what little I heard of the way he expressed himself. I chose to dislike him and treated him with suspicion and barely concealed hostility. In fact, I am brilliant at barely concealed hostility, which I know is nothing to be proud of.

The argument we had early on, and on which I based my view of him, was over a pair of wheels. At that time, OH had a small motorbike, a super little red one (!), that he had agreed to sell to DBrother, because he was planning to get a bigger and better one. (The new one he got was blue and I never felt the same about it.) From time to time DBrother would borrow the bike to get to work. Without asking, because he had a spare key, and it would leave OH right in the lurch because he had quite a drive to work along routes that didn't have buses. I think that somehow this was an acceptable agreement between them, because they had been through great hardship together. And this was in Greece, before they'd had their Greek ethnicity recognised, and Albanians holding down jobs was not easy. Life for them was very hard. I saw stuff that would make your toes curl and that is nothing compared to the lives they were living before I met them. I will write a book about that some time.

Anyway, this arrangement with the bike also continued, as I saw it, mostly because DBrother was the eldest. And this was something that I just couldn't get my head around. I couldn't understand him wanting to assert his 'authority'. Neither could I understand OH succumbing to it. (He'd told me stories, by then, of how DBrother had belted him as a child. I now think perhaps there was more to it than that. I know OH did things that weren't acceptable living under the dictator and the family were probably worried for his safety.) I am an eldest child who has only ever been verbally assaulted for acting like the eldest, and I guess the truth is that it got to me on a deeper level than I could acknowledge at the time. It made me see red. Plus I am super-protective of those I love.

So one day, after the price for the bike and the date for the exchange had been agreed, and DBrother had borrowed it and forgotten to lock it, and it was stolen, and he then refused to pay OH anyway, I lost control and stormed round to his house and gave him a piece of my mind. Looking back, I wish I had a video clip of that event. I'd only been in a Greece a few months and I can't for the life of me imagine what I was able to say at that point. The months of the year, yes. 'One cheese pie, please,' yes. (I mimed Popeye blowing his pipe when I wanted a spinach one.) 'I love you,' probably. But 'You selfish bloody bastard, your little brother works his guts out for his money, how can you possibly let his bike get stolen and then not have the decency to give him the cash anyway...' is probably not something I was able to say. I know that it wasn't my place to say any of it. I remember that I was standing on the stairs outside his front door in the block of flats where he lived when I said my piece. And I remember that at the end I understood the one word he said to me, which was Greek for 'Have you finished?' And I stormed off. And have harboured hateful vengeful thoughts against him ever since. Although he did cough up half the cash after that.

Perhaps he was the person I thought he was. I'm sure that other events must have taken place that perpetuated my view. Perhaps he was and he has changed. He has been through hardship and grief. And divorce. But actually, I think maybe I was wrong about him. I think I might have misinterpreted his body language. And his silences. And the way he would disappear. Actually I think he is quite a sensitive soul. I have described him to my mum as a romantic and I think she might be worried I've got the hots for him because I've said it a few times. Hell no, but wouldn't that put the cat among the pigeons!  I say 'romantic' because he has a sensitive, philosphical quality to the way he seems to think and then express himself. He went to music school and is apparently known as 'DBrother the singer' in thier hometown. Hitherto, if I was asked, I'd have presumed he was known as 'DBrother the wanker', if I'm honest.

Yes, I think I was wrong.

Today, after the blatant expressions of hostility being exchanged between OH and myself last night, which led to me spending another evening on my own in the dining room, the atmosphere was pretty cold. So when OBrother went out with OH, I went and sat down next to DBrother and tried once again to talk to him about Stuff.

I started by saying that I felt that whether I used the right words or not, we would struggle to understand one another because of our opposing cultures and that this was a hard bridge to cross. He didn't disagree. I tried to explain that they were arriving at my home against a backdrop of seventeen years of friction with OH that had left me feeling quite emotionally frozen and unable to welcome them with the warmth I would like to. I reminded him again of the reasons why their arrival was not good timing for me and of the reasons why I felt their plans were ill-thought through and unlikely to succeed. I told him how afraid I was that they would end up moving back here if they didn't find work and how much I need my personal space. We agreed that that wasn't an option. I then asked if maybe two evenings a week, they could give OH and I some space. He said yes of course. But explained that the kitchen at Khan's is too filthy to cook or eat in (it's not actually that bad, but we won't go there right now - and OH did actually find them a kettle and toaster etc today) so I agreed that they could continue to eat here every day for the time-being. I also expressed my despair at OH's intransigent attitude when I feel I am doing as much, if not more, as can be reasonably expected in this situation, and he is still being really bloody horrible. (I won't tell you what he said last night but it wasn't nice.) DBrother agreed it wasn't right and said he'd talk to him. I told him what a complete and utter waste of time it would be but that he could try if he likes. We have wagered £1000 on him turning OH around. If we divorce, I win.

So, what is this post about? There's an awful lot rolling around in my head, but I think it's about making mistakes. About making snap judgements and mis-assumptions. Thinking we know what's going on in another person's head when we don't really have a clue. Thinking something is the way it is when actually it isn't at all. How many more mistakes have I made, I wonder?

When the time is right, I will apologise to DBrother for not giving him a proper chance before now. When we are at Gatwick waiting for his flight home, perhaps.