When my brother and I were young, we made up a language only the two of us understood. We spoke it in hushed whispers and built forts out of cushions, as the world around us fell away and the one we created rose and flourished. Being two years younger, I found myself always trailing behind him and the older we got the less I started rushing to catch up. And finally, I let myself stand behind as he kept walking further and further out of reach.
We spoke a dead language now and addressed each other less than strangers. The world we built crumbled like it was made of sand. We built forts only to keep each other out. I blamed him for a long time for not turning back. It was too late when I realized that he didn’t turn back because I never called for him. The day he stopped checking to see if I was by his side my dependency on him disappeared. I was twice as hard on myself because I thought I had lost my support system. But he was there all along; I just rejected his presence. The older we got, the more our lives rotated on different axes, never colliding. And I regret it. I regret pushing him away. We are so incredibly different from each other and I made sure of it. I made sure that I’d be able to leave the shadow he has always cast on me unintentionally. In doing so, I’ve created a gap between us wider than our age difference. I told him with my silence that he was no longer needed. I could do it on my own. Like always.
There’s a difference between being alone and being lonely. And I didn’t understand that before. I thought I was bettering myself by doing everything independently. I cut off important people in my life who I should’ve kept closest to me. So, when I did accomplish and achieve what I wanted, there was no one there for me to share it with. My brother was a pillar in my life that I took a sledgehammer to and destroyed. Once, we had everything in common and mirrored each other like twins. Inseparable. I took the memories we made for granted and buried them deep inside, so I wouldn’t be weak. I numbed the pain and tried to make things work without him. Siblings are one of a whole. Despite us drifting apart, I’ve only made things harder by turning a blind eye every time he drifted back and reached out to pull me from under the current. Instead, I chose to drown. I chose to sink rather than take his hand.
My brother and I spoke a language with no meaning to anyone else but the two of us. But he never could’ve understood what I never told him. I could’ve tried to let him know that I cared, that we would be okay but I didn’t. I swallowed my tongue and chose a bitter path. The important thing about pillars is that they are the foundation of any construction. And the roof I built always seemed to be on the verge of crashing down.
