I don't remember the last time that we really had a fight.
It was before the world tried to end. Before that [[blowout]] that I had with dad. Neither of us had left home yet. You were [[teaching music]] through your laptop webcam while I learned how to be a college [[student]] in my bedroom. You have a [[superpower]] that you don't know about. You listen to any classical piece for a minute and can [[figure out->student]] who wrote it and the period that it's from, all without knowing its name.
[[Back->blowout]]Your other superpower is beating yourself up. You have struggled since the day of your birth. I wasn't there, I wasn't ready yet. I still see something in mom's eyes when she talks about you gasping for air. The anxiety of the [[first child]]. After I was born, it would take them almost two decades to realize that they had a daughter and a son. But you knew very early on that you had a brother. You supported me. You're a [[fighter]]. You've fought for me in ways that I still don't know. "I feel like I'm not doing enough."
"I didn't get enough done today."
You're getting ripped off and I hate it. You fight so hard and now you're burnt out. You throw yourself into everything and they've drained you.
You push yourself past your own limits over and over again. Always [[push, push, push->Signs]].
You have taught me so much. The older sister that I have indirectly learned so much from.
To hold my ground.
To raise my voice.
To push myself.
To embrace my sadness.
[[Next->Therapy]]"Stop talking about me in therapy! Therapy is for you, you should be talking about yourself."
But I am talking about myself when I talk about you. I talk about how I worry for you. I talk about how I wish that my words could make you feel better. I talk about how I know that you deserve better. I talk about how I want to [[defend you->fighter]] in front of your stupid boss.
[[Next->Signs]]Astrology is cheesy but it brings me comfort. I know that it isn't science, it's just looking at the day that you were born and assigning you a constellation, but that doesn't matter.
What matters is that your emotions flow freely from you. They always have, ever since we were little. You don't hold back. When you're upset, you let it out. You //are// a [[cancer]]. When out of your shell, you scurry about the beach, looking for pinching victims to make fun of with your family later on. You constantly are running around, trying to fend for yourself, while humans, fish, waves, and birds swirl around you. You know what you want to do every time you leave your shell, and when you return, you crash like the very wave that sends you back [[The Story]]. Looking back on them, it's so hard to not laugh at all of the Fourth of July-themed cakes that you had. But I think that we can all enjoys the fireworks still, despite the [[irony]].
The facts that our birthdays fall extremely close to two US-specific holidays crosses my mind more often than you might think. The chances of being born within a week of a major holiday (before or after) is just over 4%. But if we do that twice (once for each of us), we get 0.1688872blahblahblah%. Not that being born near a national holiday actually //means// anything in terms of personality, but come on. Those are weird odds.
[[Next->The Ways]]I compare us to Gee and Mikey a lot. Next time we see them, we are definitely going to make matching sibling t-shirts.
I think about "Brother." Sometimes I think about you sitting in a hospital room if something ever happened to me. But mostly, I think about sitting in a hopsital room if something ever happened to you.
I worry about you so much. I've had dreams where you're gone, but I never tell you about them. It feels so real. When I wake up, I think about telling you.
[[Next->I'm Your Brother]]. //And brother, if you have the chance to pick me up
And can I sleep on your couch
To the pound of the ache and pain?
Oh, in my head
'Cause I'm awake all night long
To the drums of the city rain//
-"Brother" by Gerard WayThe story of the scorpion and the crab is not very well-known to humanity. Only a slim fraction of the population can ever experience this story. It is both universal throughout each telling, but also very unique.
But this is our story, the one that [[Moving Away]].The scorpion and the crab were very good friends. They had [[known each other->irony]] for so long, that neither of them could imagine a life without the other.
As the two grew older, the crab had to move away. It was not very far away, but far enough away for the scorpion to feel [[the absence of her presence->The Ways]]. He knew that she had to go, at least for a little while, but it still hurt.
[[Next->Late-Night Texts]] //lmao I am a little tipsy//
Not that the scorpion minded. He was a night owl anyway, the text had not woken him up. Any message from the crab warmed his heart, especially because these texts ended up in paragraphs of "sober thoughts that I can only bring myself to tell you when I'm drunk and we're hundreds of miles apart." The scorpio felt the same way. His reminders of love included funny memes or photosets of a mutual celebrity crush, or [[Going Out]] to get tea together on weekends when they were both home. Music is always playing in the crab's car. It's the same bands, the same songs, the same sounds, the same lyrics, but the two love it all. Listening to the same thing over and over again never [[Gets Old]]. Except the scorpion and the crab. They get old.
Which terrifies the scorpion.
Which terrifies [[me->The Ways]].