My Life

Giant Little Brother


I could use your name, but that seems weird at this stage given that most of these are nameless.

I mean there is only one of you, so I could address this to you directly, or in any other vaguely insulting moniker that I use in lieu of your actual name these days. Our relationship has basically become an exchange of vaguely insulting remarks and discussions about dinner.

I mean it’s more that that as well, but mainly that.

People are always weirdly surprised, one when they discover that I am the oldest sibling (which I don’t get, but apparently I give off ‘middle child’ vibes whatever the hell that means) and second when they learn that for the most part I actually get along with you. For the most part anyway, although I cannot remember a time when we truly fell out for all that long. We might have done at some point, it seems likely given that it’s been 20 years and to go that long without once doing so seems highly unlikely.

I mean you seemed to forgive me when I was the reason that you had to have your head glued together and when I trapped your finger in the door that one time. I don’t think you were aware of much other than the fact that you were itchy as fuck when I gave you chickenpox but I did that as well. You didn’t seem to mind when I got the bigger the room either when we finally had to stop sharing, although you were pretty speedy when it came to moving in after I schlepped my ass up north for uni. I haven’t been as quick at jumping back into that room, one because it needs one final deep clean that I have not bothered to dedicate time to yet and two because it needs redecorating, which I have to plan and figure out before I execute it and which I also have not dedicated the time to.

It’s only marginally weird now that you don’t actually live here anymore. Mainly due to the fact that I don’t have to keep remembering to ask if you need to be fed or not. I mean you effectively became some kind of hermit where it became rare to catch a sighting of you outside the white walls of your (which is both formerly and soon to be mine) room. So in that respect everything is pretty much the same, I just spend less time talking to about food to you now.

The conversations have mutated slightly and always prove interesting these days. Mainly because we actually tend to share the same opinions, which to be honest is useful because I’m at a stage where I will just call people out on their shit and I would rather not have to do that with you. 20 years without a major problem is too good a track run to ruin.

To be honest, at this point I am kind of glad that there is only one of you. I don’t know why, but if I had more than one sibling I feel like it would be a massive headache, although if I had more than one brother I would have a greater pool of clothes to ‘borrow’, but then I would also be outnumbered and that just wouldn’t do. So yeah, for whatever reason I am glad that there is one of you. And only one of you.

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