Status: Writing :3
Maybe Next Year
One
There are many people in my life that I have made mistakes with. I lay awake many nights and think about all the things I wish I could take back if it would let me keep a few certain people. You see, that was always my problem. I never think before I do things. Therefore, I lose the people that mean the most to me. My brother, being one of them. I go back to that moment more than any other.
My brother is three years my senior. I looked up to him my whole life. He played sports, so I played sports. He dated a girl, so I went out and found a girl. I always wanted to be him. He was the wonder child. Our parents kissed the ground he walked on. So you can only imagine.
When I reached the climax of my teenage years, I began to resent him.
He went off to college and I didn't say goodbye. He went to an Ivy League school in New England and after that, I didn't hear from him again. He never called to say hi, to offer his brotherly advice and see how I was hanging in. I began to hate him even more.
We were family. Family was always supposed to stick together.
It wasn't until I turned twenty that I really began to understand the mistakes I had made. That was when I turned the hatred on myself.
I began to sink into this rut of sadness. I pushed away even more people.
My best friend, my father, and the only person who had ever tried to understand and get inside my head, the little old man who lived next door: I pushed all of them away. Now, as I sit here taking in the new year, I am filled with so much regret. I will make things right with these people. Before the end of the year, I will have them back in my life.
Things are finally going to change.
My brother is three years my senior. I looked up to him my whole life. He played sports, so I played sports. He dated a girl, so I went out and found a girl. I always wanted to be him. He was the wonder child. Our parents kissed the ground he walked on. So you can only imagine.
When I reached the climax of my teenage years, I began to resent him.
He went off to college and I didn't say goodbye. He went to an Ivy League school in New England and after that, I didn't hear from him again. He never called to say hi, to offer his brotherly advice and see how I was hanging in. I began to hate him even more.
We were family. Family was always supposed to stick together.
It wasn't until I turned twenty that I really began to understand the mistakes I had made. That was when I turned the hatred on myself.
I began to sink into this rut of sadness. I pushed away even more people.
My best friend, my father, and the only person who had ever tried to understand and get inside my head, the little old man who lived next door: I pushed all of them away. Now, as I sit here taking in the new year, I am filled with so much regret. I will make things right with these people. Before the end of the year, I will have them back in my life.
Things are finally going to change.