Western Cheeseburger

Today after I went to Skyview for observations, I decided to go to good ol' Carl's Jr. because we don't have one anywhere near home, and I'm going home tomorrow.

As I was sitting there, eating my western cheeseburger, I started to get a little sad. I was thinking, which as we know is never a good thing, and my train of thought just never stopped. Let me guide you through my stream of consciousness:
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I started off by thinking about how I haven't cried at all this semester, not really. I have gotten a little upset, and maybe teared up for a minute or two, but I haven't full blown cried since January or February.
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Then I started looking at Carl's menu. They offer all sorts of goodies. Then my eyes stumbled upon a chicken sandwhich, a santa fe one I think.
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This chicken sandwhich made me think of Brent and how he would probably like this sandwhich, which made me think about the one time he brought me food to work when I was in high school I believe ( I was at Famous Footwear, so that narrows the timeline down.) He got a grilled chicken sandwhich from Wendy's and I was thankful, but upset, because it wasn't something I would eat, but something he would eat.
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So while I was looking at this grilled santa fe chicken sandwhich up on the menu, I started to cry while I was eating my amazing Western Cheeseburger. Not a sob or a wail cry, but tears welled in my eyes and before I knew it they were trickling out.
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I realized just how much I miss my brother. How much I missed OUT on with my brother. Our childhood wasn't a happy one, quite difficult actually. I sat and wanted to have Brent close to me, to develop our relationship with one another and to continue to bond. But I can't have that.
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Which made me think of how much simpler life was. Life was a lot easier, (even though it sucked, if that makes sense), and we missed out on so much. I don't have a bond with my brother's the way my roommates do with their siblings, and I don't have a close connection with my family/extended family either. I think about how much I don't have, and it makes my heart hurt. Not in the sense that I'm ungrateful etc., but so often I think about how nice it would have been to have this great support system beneath me, supporting me and lifting me up instead of constantly tearing me down.
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Everyone always tells me it's okay, because I can get that when I get married. But there's no guarantee. There is no guarantee that I will get married, nor if I get married that he comes from a good wonderful family. There's no way for us to know.
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Which this past thought makes me more upset, because five years ago, if I told you what I would be doing would have been: Well, I'll be married, and finishing up school. Then depending on where he is in school, find a job and help him finish school. Then when we're both done with school I'll start having children.... etc.
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Now five years later, I'm not married, and in Utah, at my age, being unmarried is not acceptable. In fact, it's frowned upon. I hear it all the time in my institute classes, and in sunday school, etc. It's not entirely my fault I'm not married.
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Sitting in Carl's Jr. alone, eating a Western Cheeseburger. Only someone like me would be okay with something like that.