The Routes That Connect Me to You
Like branches on a tree, we grow in different directions, yet our roots remain as one, were one out of the many who could’ve been chosen to be somewhat related. I was told way too many times that “If you’re loved by someone you’re never rejected. Decide what to be and go be it.” I linked myself to that idea, and it’s not working so well. What about if you can’t decide what you want to be, how you want to be contrived by one’s pity words. It’s not me who I stew for, it’s you even if you didn’t see that all those years we spent together. All those years I would wrap my tough arms around you and tell you softly with my brim voice if you wanted to be part of my chorus, only you didn’t know with your big bold eyes in which way I meant that.
Then I would brush my fingers gently across my wooden guitar, I'd pull on the tarnished metal strings. That leave an orange stain on my fingers with the dirty but memory filled smell of metal. I feel potent as I do, I feel full control of myself. And my fingers would ache without you to hold and me with one to play with the beautiful music that would fill your ears. And make you fall asleep on my arm every night. Your pale, blooming fingers wrapped around my blotchy, and tough fingers. The harder I grasped the more in control I felt to command a hard tightness. A tightness that would let me hold onto the world pushing me down. I look at your parchment faded and creased like vellum face, I would see through your brumous eyes that life had broken you. Or more that you had been brought broken, only to be broken more. As your caramel sweet eyes met mine You laughed, a sweet instant laugh. You laughed a sweet sound of a baby undefiled by the hurt of life, or yet even worse not knowing they were already hurt. We had one thing that unblemished the road of similarity, and only one thing. You had been hurt by life, and I hadn’t.
My brain grasps to find an importance in acceptance of others. I urge in burning pain to make others pity words truly count. But I never came to realize if my reasons were nothing but envy. Envy to the fact that others might just bother to care, because they have nothing else to care about. Nothing in their lives to point out. Realizing that where you’ve come from, or how you may look, as nothing to do with what you are. Or what you can become. I trusted you, because as you grasped on my fingers so tightly I felt protected. And without you, protection felt like another cumulonimbus cloud, so distant so unreachable for now.
I need you, and I never came to realize that you might have needed me just a little more. I needed you to be the ordinary kid, any sister would want. And I didn't see you that way before, but I need you to know that you're not. You're not normal, and you'll never ever be that way. You're something way more than that, an extraordinary little brother, with the greatest smile. Yeah, you have down syndrome. But inside you might just be something way more than the brother expected, and I want to tell you that I might not have always seen that, from my cold eyes.
I remember the day I met you:
As I entered the building a rush of cool air ran through my body. I looked down at my nails, all chipped and damaged. They were painfully short, down to my skin short. Across the top of each nail there was pronounced red, blood . I knew I would have to stop before mom noticed that I started this again. Dad took my hand in his and squeezed it tightly, like he always did when he knew I wasn’t feeling well. He looked at me in the eyes, and I looked back at him. I got lost in his hazel eyes. I knew he was regretting telling me that my new little baby brother was going to be “different.” He was right I’ve been feeling sweaty, and out of breath. And all dizzy. I mean, what could that possibly mean? Was he sick?
“Honey, everything is going to be alright. You’ll love him.” my dad said his big hands on my shoulders.
“We’re in this together… Are you ready?” He asked
I lied. I had never been so unprepared, for what was waiting for me behind those tall green doors. What could be waiting for me behind those walls, with a smile on his face. I didn’t know. I had no clue, but I had to find out. I enter the room hiding my hands under the long sleeves of my oversized sweatshirt, and hiding my nervousness along with it. I look around the room in search for something desperately, noticing everything that surrounds me.
I enter the room and there you were, with your big bright eyes. I saw you, Bo. I saw the smile that began to form on your face as you saw me. The room became brighter. My head began a long run to realizing that I have a new brother who needs me,and I might need him even more. I urge myself to get closer to you, and as I reach to touch your little face, you grabs my fingers, and wraps his around mine, as if we were pinky promising something, to each other. In which he was. He’s promising eyes were telling me that he was going to love me. And he was going to be by my side forever. That he will be hanging on my hands. His big adorable eyes told me many things. I leaned in to whisper into his ear “I’m sorry, you have to be this way…”
That was it the first time I met my brother, my nine year old self announced proudly that he was mine. And only mine. I wanted to hold him gently in my arms. Wrapped safely. But even if hugged him the tightest that I possibly could, my protection didn’t affect what others had to say about him. I couldn’t do anything about that, sadly.
Then mom and dad, just stared at me with a proud expression drawn nicely on there faces, in which I did not deserve. They both sat there thinking I would actually do this. They were the two people, who have walked without shoes, to give them to me, so my feet would be protected, from these hard floors, and the long journey of this world. I wanted to be that for you. I was sure he would keep his promise, but I wasn’t so sure if I could keep mine. That’s what brought me back to reality, and that's why I tell myself now:
Savior For One
When your heavy eyes close shut.
And you soar into a nice dream.
Keep safe Rachel, and fly back to reality
I also remember all those afternoons we spent together:
I would see you positioning your lips into an o. And then produces the word “happy.” I'd run back to my room and grab my guitar.
“Bo, you want to sing You are my Sunshine?”
You would began to clap your hands cheerfully.
“Ok lets go…”I begin to strum my guitar and sing.
Then you would sing with me, you would show me the magic in your big bright eyes, you would make me forget about the world for just that little moment. You would allow me to wear a smile, truly, and honestly I would never want to change that.
I had a dream last night, and I couldn’t sleep. I dreamed that you were gone, and that I never got to say goodbye. I never got hug you tight enough, or hold you in my arms, and peck you in the cheeks, and tickle you as laughter ran through your face. I dreamed that I didn’t love you enough. And I’m so sorry for that. I want to tell you that even though I’m away for college I always have you on my mind. And while so, I think about you and only you. When the whole world is falling behind me I think about you. Your the first and the last thing that crosses my mind. I love you, Bo. And If I could change anything in this whole wide world it would be people’s pity sorry’s, with there hurt expressions drawn on their faces. Deep down inside they don’t mean it, they just want you to think they have you in mind, when they honestly don’t. They’ve got their own lives, filled with people to love. But I do mean it when I say “I’m Sorry,” because I had you to love, I just couldn't see it through my clogged eyes. Clogged with the idea of accepting you for you, or hurting myself as I didn’t. And now I have this enormous pain in my chest. It’s the pain my mind creates for not loving you. I want you to do one thing and one thing with this. I want you to read it, read it on the way to school, at the doctor, to the park, even if you don’t understand it. I don’t care just read it, so my words that once filled your ears will now touch you accelarting heart.
Yours Truly, Rachel