Dear Brother,

I first want to start off with saying you have no idea how proud of you I am. I know the life you've lived, I was there right next to you living it with you, and you made it. You're attending your dream school, with your dream major, and everything's turning out spectacular for you. I'm so proud of you, it's pathetic. I'm so proud of who you are and who you're becoming. I'm so god damn happy for you, it's not even funny.

But, I'm also jealous. I'm also mad.

I'm jealous because you actually became the perfect son that our parents wanted. I'm mad because for the next two years, I have to live up to the expectations you created for them.

I'm jealous because you got out. You don't have to deal with mom and dad fighting anymore. You don't have to deal with the screaming that made both of us turn the volume of our headphones up, even if it was dangerously loud. I'm mad because for the next two years, I still have to keep turning up that volume.

I'm jealous because you don't have to deal with mom anymore. You don't have to deal with her judging every move you make. You don't have to deal with her screaming because you didn't stand up fast enough when she called you to empty the dishwasher. I'm mad because I still have to hear those ridicules.

I'm jealous because you get to know what freedom tastes like. You get to know how it feels to be able to live life as you. You don't have limitations. I'm mad because I still do.

I'm mad because I spent the last 6 months before you left for college saying I was "counting down the days" until you left. I'm mad because I spent the last month before you left for college saying how I couldn't wait to have my own sink, how the laundry that I had to wash was now going to be so much lighter, when in all honesty the house has never been this quiet.

I'm mad because I don't wanna get used to you not being home. I don't want to get used to not having someone to watch Bones with, I don't want to get used to your game room being silent. I don't wanna get used to not having to fight over the front seat of the car with someone, even though for the past three years it's been you behind the wheel.

I'm mad because for the past 16 years of my life, I never told you. I never told you how much I looked up to you. I never told you how much I admired you. You never aw me as your little brother, I know that, and I'm mad that I didn't tell you sooner.

I'm mad because for the past 16 years we rarely expressed that we did love each other. You're my big brother, the one person who had an idea of how hard life was. I'm mad because we spent 16 years living the stereotypical sibling relationship of fighting every chance we ever got.

You never realized how much easier life came at you. The kid with the perfect grades, the kid who was worshiped by everyone in the family as soon as it was discovered that you were an all star baseball player. You had no idea how much I wanted to be you. How much I admired who you really were.

I'm mad because I have regrets. I regret never running in to help you when I could hear your fits of anger in your room next to mine. I'm mad for not knowing you enough to help.

But with all this comes love. I'm mad because, as your little brother, I don't think you realize how much I love you.

Brother, you made it. Take what you have and run with it as fast as you can. Know that I'm here, sitting in the wings, waiting to take off after you.