2004-12-17
resurface
Mostly, it is the art that scares me. That every day I wake up to it and still I can think of the thoughts and the feelings I created and absorbed, years ago. I can think of the sharp pencil that he swore could pop a balloon, and did. And I can think of the thank you note I sent to school with my brother that day, reassuring him it wasn't a love letter.
And since things have been happening, I do not fear what he might say, but I fear the change. I fear the thought of saying hello and not allowing myself to concave like I used to. I fear the thought of him sitting near me and me having to leave... that it might be too hard to fathom. I fear the thought of returning feelings and sudden outbursts of realization.
And what's funny is I know this will not happen at all. But one of the things I looked forward to when my brother came home, were his best friend's visits. And when someone asked me today, "Are you excited for Josh to come home?" I thought, Yes, I guess. And that was it. Because I would much rather not see him at all.
oilandwater at 11:46 p.m.