How Holding on to a Toxic Friendship Cost Me My Relationship with My Brother

When I was 18, I met a girl. Let’s call her Bianca. Bianca was a few years younger than me, but we had so many things in common, we struck up a friendship almost instantly. Me, being the loner that I am didn’t have any friends at the time, and hadn’t really maintained any lasting relationships of any kind in the past, so the idea that Bianca actually wanted to be my friend, and enjoyed my company baffled me. She told me stories about her past, and I did the same.

According to her, she’d endured some of the same hardships, and pain in her life as me: Drug addict parents, sexual assault, etc. I really opened up to her, and as the years went on, she became the only person I trusted, next to my brother. She was my only friend. I cared about Bianca. It was almost as if I had found a sister instead of a friend. I cared so much, that I ignored so many signs that she was a toxic individual. The things that she said happened to her, hadn’t actually happened, and lying seemed to come so natural to her. If I’d catch her in a lie, and be upset about it, she’d threaten to kill herself if I walked away. Guilting me to stay in the friendship, and of course I did, because I didn’t want that to happen to someone I loved.

The last nail in the coffin for me was when she told people about my actual experiences—people that were friends of hers, but strangers to me—yelling them about some of my most horrible indiscretions that I’d only shared with her. When I found out, and confronted her, she told me she told them about things I had done that way they wouldn’t like me, because if we were ever together without her, all of us would realize we didn’t need her, because in her words she’s “nothing.” This whole ordeal coincided with her moving to another state with her boyfriend of a few months, so we didn’t talk.

In the time she was gone, I’d opened up to my brother, let’s call him Phil. Phil continued to push me to forgive her, all the way up until she moved back to town. Having a “mental breakdown” and needing to go home. Then, learning she was pregnant by the boyfriend she moved with, and then dumped. Following my brother’s advice, I contacted her, because my brother wants what’s best for me, and I value his opinion. We reconnected, but it wasn’t the same as it was before. There was still a piece of me that was suspicious of her. I didn’t have time to dwell on it though because my mother overdosed, and was in a coma for 12 days. In that time, Bianca came and sat with me one afternoon.

Phil came one night, but not anymore. I assumed it was because of our rocky history with our mother. Once she came out of the coma, and my life seemed like things were gonna be okay until I discovered that Bianca, and my brother had been seeing each other since she came back. Nobody bothered to tell me, because I “had enough on my plate.” As you can imagine, I was pissed. I didn’t speak to her, or my brother.

That didn’t last long though, because as soon as my boyfriend at the time found out my mom was gonna be okay, he dumped me. (That’s a whole other story on its own. Maybe I’ll write about how falling for a guy that was allergic to honesty stunted me emotionally, and made sure I’m suspicious of every dude but anyway...) My brother came to my side, of course and we were making it work. I couldn’t bring myself to be okay with her though. I thought I couldn’t anyway. I went to spend the night with my father's sister, who my brother was still living with, and who we both grew up living with because of our parents.

I awoke the next morning to my aunt screaming (that’s kinda her nature, so I didn’t think anything of it). Until I actually heard what she was saying. I soon realized Bianca was in the house. I walked in the room to see my aunt towering over her. She was only four-foot-nine, and my aunt was just in her face calling her a whore. I don’t really know why I did what I did next, this girl betrayed me so many times. I should’ve hated her, I really should have, but looking at her small frame cowering back from my aunt, I jumped in between them, and defended the girl I still cared about because my dumb heart always messes me up. Things escalated from there, and it became apparent that my brother wasn’t gonna he alright living there anymore, so I invited him to live in my house, liked I'd done 100 times before Bianca and him were even a thing, and he’d said no to. This time, he said yes, and we packed his things, and peaced out.

As we drove to my house, I felt so happy. After everything my brother and I had been through, and the shitty hand life had dealt us, we were finally getting a fresh start. Things seemed alright at first. Then my brother got rude, and he stopped keeping his word, and it seemed that all his choices weren’t being made by him anymore. It got to the point where my brother and I couldn’t be in the same room without fighting, he made an arrangement with my landlord to pay $25 a month for the lawn, since I wasn’t making him pay for anything else, and he and Bianca left for three days, and stuck me with the bill when it was due. Forcing me to pawn the $431 XBox I bought him for his birthday the year before. Of course, he flew of the handle over the XBox and he ended up moving in with Bianca and her mom. I got the XBox back of course, and have been using it ever since because he never came back. While they were gone, the outed me as being bisexual to my family, told people I “sold the XBox for drugs” and when my mom got back on drugs and broke into my house, my brother informed me I deserved it for “disrespecting his girlfriend.” We haven’t spoken or seen each other since, despite my many attempts to reach out to him. I’ve reached the point where I’ve stopped reaching out. A person can only take so much rejection. I still find myself crying myself to sleep at night missing my brother, and even on some nights, I miss Bianca. As twisted and fucked up as it is, I miss the laughs and the fun we had together. I miss having a best friend. Having such toxicity in my life changed me. It changed how I interact with other people. The brick wall I put up to protect my heart is higher than ever. I hate that my heart as hardened this way. If my brother ever does come back into my life, obviously I’ll accept him. I love him. He’s my baby brother, but he broke my heart, and that’s a hurt I never thought I’d feel. Not from him.

On the off chance he ends up reading this:

I love you. I’ll always love you. You’re still my brother. My door is always open. Like I’ve told you 100 times, as long as I have a roof over my head, you have one. Whenever you’re ready. ❤️