A Letter to My Little Brother
Dear Little Brother, The only place I know where to start is the beginning. I was about two years old when mom and dad first brought you home and from what I am told, I was so excited for your birth. We grew up side by side— learning NSYNC dance routines, playing Super Mario Sunshine and being diehard WWE fans. You let me dress you up all girly and I refereed your wrestling matches as you choke slammed large pillows and pinned them. Somewhere in those years of videogames, dancing and constantly training each other to play soccer, we both grew up. Now we’re driving to different cities together, you’re almost finished high school and instead of rocking out to the Backstreet Boys, we’ve got a playlist of rappers that we both sing to at the top of our lungs. However, no matter how much time passes, no matter how many little fights we’ve gotten into (me always winning), you have always done one thing that saves me time and time again: you’ve been my best friend. You’ve been my te