How It Will Always Be

Who would use a storage bin cover

as an actual storage bin cover

when it'd be much better used as a diving board off the coach?

Why would the neighbors give us weird looks

for tying each other to a chair in any sort of rope we could find

to see how long it would take to get out?

Anything and everything that we imagined suddenly became a vital task.

We complimented each other perfectly;

He drew, I colored.

He slayed dragons in his video game, I cheered him on.

He was the fearless superhero, I was his handy sidekick,

keeping his Magic cards in order as he battled a friend.

Mornings we'd have our breakfast together,

wrapped up in our warm blankets with only our faces poking out.

After school we'd stay out working on our snow forts until we ran out of light

then return in the warm house for some Cocoa Crunchies and our favorite T.V. show.

This is how it was.

Now every so often he'll drive down from school,

give a quick “hey” and then return to his computer to talk to people

who he'd much rather be with.

The short conversations we have turn into arguments,

and the silence is again instilled.

The way it used to be between us seems to be from a different life.

This is how it seems.

But when my dog died, who was there for me to cry on? My brother.

When I was playing in a state senior all star volleyball match, something that meant so much to me, who had driven hours to be there in the stands? My brother.

One of his rare phone calls home to humor our mother

turning into an hour and a half conversation with me.

Having him come up behind me out of the blue after not talking for hours and picking me up, carrying me through the house, and throwing me on the couch, then just walking away.

Though it seems at times we are complete strangers,

the random little things he does reminds me how it truly is, how though some things have changed,

he's still the brother who used to sacrifice his body to protect me from flying snowballs in a battle against our neighbors.