My brother had his last dinner at home last night, the last time he'll be living at home full-time. The last time he'll stand up for me or make us all cry with laughter (at least for four months), and I wasn't sad.
About three hours ago, my brother left to go to France for four months. We went and had lunch together at the Mad Taco and we sat and laughed for half an hour and ate massive burritos and carnitas and I wasn't sad. About two and a half hours ago, my brother and I hugged for the last time we'll see each other in four months. He said he loved me, and that he'd skype me. And I wasn't sad.
I couldn't help but be excited. Even though I am not the one going to France to drink wine and study the classics and meet cool people for four months, it feels like I am. I guess he's just been a part of my life for so long that even though he's gone, he won't ever really be.
He'll always be the one I played with in the leaves, the one I cuddled up to during scary movies. He'll be the one I always looked to for reassurance, for guidance. He'll be a constant source of pride and a constant source of annoyance. He'll always be the funniest, kindest, goofball I've ever met. He'll always be the one who dated my best friend, the one who shot me with an air gun. He'll be the one I drove to school with everyday. He will be my first and last best friend.
If you don't know, I love my brother a lot. He has always without fail had my back, he has always been my guy, whether I wanted him to be or not. His quiet yet extremely steady presence has kept me on balance for so many years and I can't express the gratitude and love I feel towards him enough.
His leaving marks the beginning of the rest of his life. I can't be sad because I'm just so excited for him. Its hard to be sad when I know he's going to do such amazing things. Of course, I'll miss the hell out of him. But come christmas, he'll be there, just like he always is.
A book I read a few years back used a phrase that I kept hearing in my brain over and over. In this book, the author said that her two friends were the "We of Me." And I finally realized the reason that the phrase kept popping up in my mind. It is because Gabe and I are the We of Me. Although we might be an ocean apart, we are still a we, even though at the same time we are a me (am I making sense? No? Well it makes sense to me).
I love you Gabe. See you in 110 days.
