I love being an adult. Truly.
There are so many things about the growing up process that are terrifying and exhilerating all at the same time. As long as I can remember I wanted to grow up. Everyone always told me I would get there and wish for my childhood. I don’t. Not once have I ever wanted to go back. There is only one reason I have ever missed my youth: my brother.
I was blessed with a brother. We are separated in age by two years and ten months almost exactly to the day. I don’t want to make us sound like a peaceful, perfect pair because we had the same ups and downs all siblings suffer. I don’t know if all siblings can say this, but I can: my best friend was and is my brother. I lived with my best friend until I was 19 years old. I saw him every day. I talked to him every day. I shared my entire life with him. We were homeschooled for years and then went into public school. We played in the backyard. We shared a room as little kids. We fought and made up without ever telling our parents. We schemed. We played make-believe. We had our own special traditions. We ventured little by little out of our comfort zone on adventures. When I got my license our adventures started to get even bigger adventures. We went to high school and shared locker combinations so we wouldn’t have to walk so far. We supported each other. We kept each other’s secrets. I don’t think I had a bigger fan than my brother. There is nothing I wouldn’t have done for him, nothing.
Now four and a half years later, everything is different. I have graduated college. He is currently in college and interning at an amazing place. He is incredibly busy with his blossoming adulthood. He has moved in with his girlfriend and they have started their own life together. We live in different states. We have different schedules. We have different lives. We have gone in completely different paths. The majority of our shared experiences are now in the past and not in our future. I see him every four months or so, and we talk once a month or less. We are not as close as we once were. I don’t know exactly how it happened, but with distance we drifted.
Today he called me on his way home from work. It made my entire week. I love hearing about his life. We have never had a hard time talking to each other. Our problem has been making the time to talk to each other. It’s easy when you live together. Maintaining relationships becomes a lot harder with distance. He’s not to blame because I haven’t put in the effort either. It’s something I need to work on because I never want to go too long without hearing about his life or hearing his voice.
As we get older and life leads us in different paths many relationships change and many cease to exist. There is one relationship that will keep changing, but I cannot let it ever stop existing. I don’t know who I am without my brother. He was my second half for nineteen years. He was my reason to keep going most days. He is younger, but I have always looked up to him. He is the best person I have ever known in every way. I am lucky to know him. I am lucky to have him in my life. Most of all I am lucky to call him my brother and have him as one of my best friends. It doesn’t matter how long we go without seeing each other or talking to each other, we always bounce back to being the best version of us.
Everyone always talks about how your life changes when you become an adult. It’s true. Everything changes. People warn you about everything from debt to making friends to finding your spouse to buying a house to health. No one ever warned me about what would happen between my brother and I.
I love growing up, but I haven’t loved growing apart.