Everytime I see headlights, I hold my breath hoping it's him coming home. Will I hold onto this anticipation forever?

I can't even remember the last conversation I had with my little brother. I don't remember if we were fighting. Was he asking me a favor? Did he need a ride? Money? Did he call to ask for help? Was he needing advice? Was it all of the above? I have no idea.

Although I never admit it to anyone, my biggest fear is that he will be at the end of his life, replaying moments in his head, all alone wondering why he had no one. It keeps me up at night sometimes, it keeps me close to home, it keeps me from ever really writing him off after everything he's done.

My family has washed their hands of him, and rightfully so. Three and half years later, I am still writing on my worthless internet blog about my missing little brother. Missing in the sense that I don't know him anymore. Missing because he looks right through me. Missing because he chooses this neverending high over our relationship. Missing because I doubt he knows how to ever stop just treading water.

Today my dad told him to never contact him ever again. My dad being his absolute last safety net, he gave him his car and told him to never come back. My dad said he was crying when he told him. He left a few hours ago with the car and didn't tell anyone he was leaving. No one's heard from him, which is expected, but it's storming, it's dark, and my mind is racing.

I'm wondering what's on his mind. What is he thinking right now? Where is he? Is he ok? Is he sad or just numb? Is he hurting? Did he drive off when he was still crying and upset? Does he feel so hopeless and alone that he'll try to take his life again? My mind is racing with the horrifying possibilities.

I can't help but cling to this person he used to be. I've never missed anything this much in my entire life. Not my Grandpa, not Papaw, not Mallory, not my youth, not my parent's marriage, not even the only man I've ever loved. I don't know how to deal with this hollow feeling of loss.

My biggest worry right now is that I may never see him again. It's completely selfish, but I can't handle him not knowing how much his big sister loves him. No matter how much I hate the things he does, no matter how many times he steals, lies, deals, sells, etc., I can never let go. I never thought my dad would either, but after today, am I alone in holding out hope that my brother will eventually come back to us?

I know deep down my parents will never stop loving my brother, but that sense of hope, that rally our family had going for his life, that never-ending determination has faded, and I've never felt so alone.

Through all of this, I've truly learned how impossible it is to fight for a life that isn't your own. I remember when I was 18, and he was 12, I wondered what he would be like when he was 18. I'm not sure why, but you view yourself as an adult and it's so hard to imagine this little annoying pest as anything but that, but I was always curious what kind of person he would grow up to be.

Eighteen has come and gone for him, and of course he's nothing like I had imagined. I love him regardless, but he's a stranger now. I would give anything to be 18 again, to have him follow me in my bedroom and ask me to show him how to fix his hair for school tomorrow morning.

The smallest things never seem to have significance until they become a memory. I wish I would have noticed the significance 7 years ago.

I know I'll never be able to full move on with my life until I know he's alright. This will haunt me for years to come, but I know one day he will no longer suffer.

My life's greatest joy would be to watch my brother become the person he was always meant to be. Until then, I will fight for the impossible. A life that isn't my own.

Please come home, Anthony. I miss you and love you.