Brother

I

have one brother, but he’s really like having five. He’s my protector, my friend, and my support system. He knows how to make me laugh and is always there when I need him.

I’ll always remember when we were kids and had this Ricky Martin CD. We would take turns hiding it in each other’s rooms and bookbags, playing a game of hide-and-seek with it. I once stashed it in a folder he took to school, and I still wonder if he hid it really well or got embarrassed and tossed it. The world may never know.

He’s been my rock, especially during times when I felt unstable—something I could hold onto to stay grounded. His humor is unmatched; he has a knack for making me laugh, even on my saddest days.

We don’t talk much these days. Most of our conversations are just us sending songs back and forth, knowing that the other will appreciate them. It’s our way of saying, “This song reminded me of you.”

I really love him. We’ve been through a lot together, including those crazy times when we went pool hopping with shampoo in our hair. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but looking back, I feel a bit guilty for messing up those nice people’s pools.

He has a way of being there when I need him to be. He calls me randomly and it always seems to be when I need him the most. Him and Calvin are buds too which is pretty awesome.