Growing up as the forgotten middle child is both a blessing, and a curse.
On one hand, you somehow managed to escape the chaos and destruction going on with the world. You are free from it all. You don't have to care anymore. On the other hand, you see how your friends and family are struggling. The chaos and destruction is ruining their lives. You may be free from it all, but they aren't.
But you're debating whether or not you should care for them. Phones are basically banished from this forsaken town, but no one written to you. You are in a village in the middle of nowhere, while everyone else, especially your brothers, is enjoying the recognition (good or bad) of being the part of the noble side in a war between good and evil.
You're almost like the crow watching from the telephone pole. He is watching you sweep up the feathers he and his friends drop.
But unlike you, the crow probably made up his mind if he should care or not.