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"I think he's ok, you know how Monkey is. He's in his own world." Tom says into the phone to someone asking about my emotional state. "His family is different you can't read them, but I think Monkey is fine."

I've heard the same one ended conversation many times. It is a very familiar complaint that Tom is completely unable to read my emotional state unless I become too quiet. Of course if I become too quiet he knows he's in trouble.

I'm sure quite a few people have talked about how unemotionally I've dealt with death. I'm sure quite a few of my brothers friends probably wonder about our relationship since they were all crying into their drinks at his last while I stood there with mostly dry eyes. Crying gives me a headache and when I do engage in that activity it normally only lasts a few minutes. I thinkI have some vulcans in my ancestry because I just don't see the benefit.

Sometimes I feel like Dexter Morgan, from Jeff Lindsay books. No I don't feel I have a dark passenger or primal murderous impulses, I feel like I need to pretend to be like everyone else so they don't suspect I'm a monster. I feel like I need to blend in and wear the appropriate masks in order to ensure other people feel comfortable with my reactions. But I'm not Dexter Morgan, i'm not a monster blending in. I don't need to pretend and put on a show for others.

Tom says I have problems dealing with my emotions, which may be true but it doesn't really seem like I'm the one who has problem. It take me a while to process things and just because i'm not throwing tantrums, crying and braking things doesn't mean I'm not upset.

I think I probably show even less emotion if something scares me and my brother's death scared me. It's now just my Dad and I. It's up to me to take care of him and that scares me. He needs someone to nag him into better behavior. He drinks too much. He is lonely but refuses to date, and how I would love for him to meet a nice woman who would make sure he ate better and drank less. My dad doesn't understand his gay son or his vegetarian partner. My brother was always the other side of the bridge. My brother drove my Dad insane but my Dad understood him and they believed a lot of the same things. I depended on my brother to explain things or convince my Dad of things. My brother was really good at making my Dad feel more comfortable with things he didn't understand.

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