I'm sorry that I'm not talking to you right now.
I'm sorry that I missed your college graduation. You know, the one that took place four years after my own. Even though we're twins. Even though you started college with more college credits than I did, since your school accepted dual credit courses from high school and mine didn't. Since my school actually understood that those classes were bullshit and not taught on a college level at all. I might have started college with less credits than you had, but I then used them to graduate with a double major and a minor.
I'm sorry that despite all the maturity and growth you've managed since high school, you're still an asshole. And a misogynist.
I'm sorry that you think consensual sexual activity and consensual physical affection contribute to rape culture. I'm not sorry that I'm proud of all the men and women I've kissed. I'm not sorry for being proud that I've kissed people from multiple countries. I'm not sorry that Beau and I like to cuddle, and to hold hands, and to kiss in public.
I'm sorry that you apparently have no idea what rape culture is.
I'm sorry that you're clueless in your own culpability with rape culture. Like sexually harassing me for years. And then offering a half-assed apology a few months ago, filled with excuses and justification for your past behavior. Like telling me you didn't think it was okay for me to show cleavage because you didn't want guys to treat me the way you and Jon treated girls who showed cleavage. Completely ignoring the fact that the way you and Jon treated girls in high school was wrong, period, and they didn't "deserve it" because they happened to show cleavage.
I'm sorry that you still know nothing about feminism, despite having two parents and a twin sister who are feminist.
I'm sorry that you've made so many fucked up decisions that you make Mom think she did a bad job as a parent. The only mistakes she made as a parent were coddling you and letting you get away with treating me like shit because she worried about your "fragile self-esteem."
I'm sorry that I can only talk candidly about how horrible you were and how bad you still are on my anonymous blog. Because I actually give a shit about you, even though you don't deserve it, and I don't want to ruin your relationship with our mutual friends, even though you don't deserve them in your life.
I'm sorry that I didn't stand up to you when we were younger. I'm sorry that I didn't tell our mutual friends in high school how evil you were then. I'm sorry that I let your feelings come before my own.
I'm sorry that I called Daddy when you pulled a knife on me and threatened me with it. I should have called the police. Maybe you wouldn't have treated so many women like shit if you'd been scared straight at 16.
I'm sorry that the only times you've ever really cared about me were when I was sick with Crohn's. I'm sorry that the only real tenderness you've shown me were when I was 15, weighing 77 pounds, and just wanted to feel pretty again. I'm sorry that the only time you've ever made me feel like you actually love me was when I was in the hospital, and you drove nine hours overnight to come visit me, and then take me home.
I'm sorry that I'm just now realizing that my emotional needs are more important than being close to my family, for the sake of the family.
I'm sorry that I won't ever talk to you again, unless you issue a genuine apology for what you said to me about feminists and rape survivors, or unless your brain tumor comes back.
I love you. It's not enough for me to have you in my life.