Dear little brother,
You made it to thirteen! Congratulations!
Now you get to be a teenager. This is hard to believe, because I never got called that while I was one. Dad hated that word. "Kids turn into adults", he said, "Teenagers are weird in-between creatures who cause trouble and don't grow up." You know what? I'm glad you don't have to grow up yet. Be a teenager. Have your time of wild. It's pretty fun!
I'm a long ways away, but don't think you're forgotten. Every day I remember something about you. Like the time you screamed for me, and when mom handed you over, you threw up in my face. Thanks a lot, bro. Or when you were six, and I lamented your growing up. "One day, you're going to think that you're too old to kiss me!" I mourned. Your expression was serious as you insisted you would NEVER not want to kiss me. You are the most loving of all my siblings.
Remember when I taught you how to read? You had to do that big fat book of How To Read in 100 Easy Lessons. It was a dumb book. About ants and a boy in a hut. But you got through it so fast, and it was easy to see you were an avid reader. You proved it when you went to school. My twin in so many ways.
Like me, you have a dark side that comes out in your writing. I love to read everything you write. When you wrote your first love letter, I thought that any girl would be really lucky to have you. You're a sensitive romantic. And not the nerdy kind, because you are handsome and athletic, and you know how to use words in a way that charms anyone you meet.
You have such a great opportunity at life. Being the child of a broken home is the best thing that could have happened to you. Now you get to live the life I wanted. Live it fully. I love you more than anyone in the world, and hopefully in a few months I'll see you. Happy birthday late.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Posted by Angel Renee at 8:54 PM