Decades after his brother went missing, a Reddit user has shared the incredible story of their beautiful reunion and the homophobic parents who kept them apart for all those years.

Told over the course of three Reddit posts, the anonymous brother tells us about his gay brother who ran away from home when he was a teenager and was never seen again. Decades later, he discovers his “missing” brother was alive and that his parents had kept them apart because they did not approve of his homosexuality.

Read all three posts below:

Part 1:

I’m trying to write this in a way so that no one will be able to research and find out who I am (or my brother is). But it’s the Internet and everyone’s a super sleuth.

My brother went missing years ago. And when I say “missing,” I mean that his case was declared one of those “creepy unsolved mysteries.” It was on the news. I distinctly remember my parents interviewing for the news in our living room.

I think I know what happened to him.

I was very young when he went missing. I barely remember him, but I do remember that I loved him a lot. He would pull me around our block in a wagon. Most kids his age didn’t do that.

The days before he disappeared, I remember him staying home and babysitting me. I stayed in my room and played Nintendo 64. Throughout the day, a guy came over. I remember him. He was older, almost our dad’s age. My brother made me go into my room whenever I heard the doorbell.

Later, after the guy left, my brother would ask me not to say anything about the guy. With my brain only being focused on video games and extra dessert at that age, I agreed. I didn’t care, nor did I comprehend the gravity of the situation.

The day before he disappeared, I remember the older guy coming over. I was in the kitchen and remember looking up and seeing him kiss my brother. They hugged. They didn’t care that I saw them. The older guy waved at me and I waved back, then I kept watching cartoons.

I fell asleep on the couch and woke up to my brother whispering outside our front door. “Don’t worry, he’s asleep,” he said.

The older guy said something I couldn’t hear. Then my brother said something I couldn’t make out, but I made out the words “visit them” or maybe he said “visit him”? Either way, I know the word ‘visit’ was in his sentence. The man raised his voice and said no. Then I heard “plan” and “city.” Then I fell asleep again.

The next morning–the day he disappeared–my parents were at work. My brother was acting very strange. I remember he kept checking the clock. In the afternoon, I remember him picking me up and asking me if I wanted to go in the wagon. I was too hooked on Nintendo 64 and said no. He almost begged me and I said no again. Then he told me he had to run to our neighbor’s house for something, I don’t even remember what he said. I said okay. He reminded me to not open the door for anyone, only mom and dad. I shouted at him “OKAY!” because Super Mario was getting on my fucking nerves and he wasn’t helping.

He gave me a hug and told me he loved me and left. He never came back.

All these years–decades–later and I think he was in love with that man. I know he was. The memories randomly came flooding back to me earlier, I’m not quite sure why. But it has been taking over my thoughts lately. I can’t sleep because I keep thinking about it.

I think my brother left with that man and they ran away together. Or maybe something worse happened. But I don’t think that’s the case.

My freshman year of college, I was part of a sports team that got national recognition. I remember my team’s picture was on ESPN and with our university’s name. A few days later, I got mail at my dorm. It was a gift basket. I thought it was from my parents, so I didn’t read the card. I threw it away immediately and ate what was in it, but it was nothing but candy. Nerds, jolly ranchers, Tootsie Rolls and Hershey’s Kisses. I called my dad and thanked him for the gift basket and he said he didn’t send one, neither did mom.

Then I got to thinking: all of those candies were what I used to eat as a kid. Literally all I ate for the earliest years of my life were those candies. I tried to find the card, but I couldn’t. Then I began to think about how my brother would wheel me in the wagon to the gas station close to our house so I could get candy after dinner, even though it was a punishable-by-death “no-no” from mom.

Months later, during Christmas, I got an unmarked Christmas card. The only thing written on it was a


Readers' Choice