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Saturday, June 23, 2012

Nick

Growing up, my brother and I were pretty close. We were pretty much best friends. As kids we did everything together. We played with the same neighborhood friends and had fun doing the same stuff. We used to build forts, make mud stew, play sports, ride bikes, pretend to be Rambo (and Rambina) or Power Rangers, and get in lots of trouble. We even took turns taking the blame for shit. We knew that we were probably gonna get busted so we had to decide beforehand whose turn it was to take the heat.

My dad used to have this yellow construction string that he used for stuff. It was pretty expensive and he kept it out in his garage. If it was in his garage, it was probably expensive and you probably shouldn’t fuck with it… but we stole it one day and decided it would be awesome to make a huge spider web by tying it to random everything in my brother’s room. It was awesome! We got in trouble of course but I have no idea who took the blame on that one.

We obviously fought and argued like any brother and sister would but we always ended up making up and then doing other crazy shit together.

One of our favorite things to do was take our sectional couch and push it together to make a square. This was our wrestling and fighting arena and it was the best. It was also the base to our fort-making and where we would eat many bags of popcorn and chips dipped in ketchup and millions of bagels with cream cheese. We once had this kick where we would dip pepperoni into pizza sauce. Until we spilled sauce on the rug and begged our mom not to tell our dad because he would probably beat us. We even blew up the glass plate in the microwave because we thought it would be a better idea to cook two bags of popcorn at the same time… These were also the days of our food inventions. One of the only ones I can remember consisted of spoonfuls of fluff, peanut butter, a mashed banana, and some chocolate syrup. I remember it because I make it still to this day for my daughter (who am I kidding, and for me!)

Those were good times. We got older and moved to a new state and I don’t really know how or why anymore but we kinda stopped being friends. I would sometimes spend a few hours hanging out with him while he played computer games, cheering him on. That was all good and fine. But then, for some reason, he started to hate me. To my recollection I never stole from him (I was a classic klepto as a teen. I would take shit from my sisters regularly and swear up and down that I didn’t) or did anything in particular to cause this, but he hated me.

I always wished that that were different. I really love my brother. I even wrote an essay about him in college. It was one of the few times we got along after we moved and it was about building an igloo with him one winter. But still to this day, the kid pretty much hates me. Or he just has no interest in being my friend anymore. Its really sad and it makes ME really sad. I’m interested in his life and where he’s going or what he wants to do. And I want the best for him. I miss having a little brother. When I moved back to Florida, I lost all my chances for making things right with him and I realize that now at 27, I’ll probably never have the opportunity at the kind of friendship with him I wish I had. It sucks.

Riley is his first niece. He has 3 other niece and nephews by my second sister and from what I hear he’s a really good uncle. We are missing out on that. Riley is missing out on that and it‘s disappointing. I feel like my brother would never give me the chance or the time of day to rebuild our relationship. He doesn’t answer my texts so I never bother to call. That was supposed to be my lifelong buddy! He makes me feel like I suck. I did something so terrible that I can never take it away and I don’t even know what it is! He doesn’t even know what it is!

At a certain age and point in my life, I wasn’t the easiest person to get along with. I know that. I had a lot of shit going on inside me and I never knew how to handle it. I don’t think anyone ever really knew that. I mean, how could they, when I hardly knew it myself. But I guess I just wish things were different. I wish I had a brother again. Even if we fought or disagreed sometimes, it at least it would mean we were still talking. I talk to my brother maybe once a year, when I’m visiting. And even then that’s all it is. A small conversation here or there. I don’t know what else to do. I guess there’s nothing for me TO do anymore.

I know you aren’t reading this, Nick… but if you ever do. I love you little bro and I miss you!

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