I hardly know you. But I miss you. I am not sure you know to what extent your self-proclaimed addictions are hurting you. To be honest, I’m not sure I know, either.
I know that you talk about online gaming with a passion I’ve not seen in you for a very long time. I know that you like the idea of others looking to you for leadership in the game. I know you have ideas and dreams of designing games like these yourself, and I know that if you did it, you would thrive at it.
I also know that the game sucks you in to the point that nothing else seems important. I know that you owe money to lots of people whom you cannot pay, because you are unemployed. I know that finding gainful employment is not a priority for you, even though you haven’t had any income for months. I know that you fight with people who love you because they don’t understand your need to play. (Is that the reason? I don’t know, since we hardly ever speak. I can only guess.)
I see your talent, your natural tendency towards leadership, your vision for design, your sheer intelligence, and it makes me crazy. I will never be as smart as you, and I will never have the artistic eye you have, and I’m afraid you’ll never get around to using those skills that I envy. I am worried that the gaming will always get in your way.
What can I do but step back? I don’t think you’re really ready to admit that you’ve been defeated by this game. I think you love it too much.
I love you too much to do or say anything more. I will always be here for you, little brother, should you find you ever need my help. And I will always love you, no matter how far away I may seem to be. You should never ever have to feel that you are alone, because I am in your corner. I hope someday you see it, and that we can be friends.