The brother

Ever since the brother was enlisted into the army, my room has been in almost pristine condition – proving my theory that the room is in a haphazard mess simply because of my brother's existence, right. Of course I do not hate my brother. I think its impossible to hate one's sibling simply because of a single unfavorable trait. Other than the messiness, my brother is a lovable being. He is easy to talk too, nonjudgmental to a fault, and soft spoken. I am also secretly jealous of my brother. Not only is he blessed with a towering height (1.83m) and a slender frame, he stole all the good looks genes from me.

What can I say? Terrifyingly enough, I'm actually an aging 20 something- and a fresh young scamp of the teens seems so terribly young, effortlessly juvenile and barely out of school somehow. Was I ever that young and innocent? So when he was enlisted into the army – the infantry no less – I was somehow deeply affected. Not one to show emotions, I played the jester brother, joking to him about the inefficiencies of the army, and if I could survive the army, anyone could.

Truth be told, I wish I could have told him more. Told him that yes it's hard to adjust. And yes to survive, sometimes you have to betray your principals. I wish I could somehow help him be more prepared. I looked into his eyes on the morning of the enlistment date, and felt the same fear, nervousness and uncertainties I felt on my enlistment date. I held back my tears on that fateful day.

And I know, my brother was doing the very same thing.