Being an younger sibling is just. ive always known you. i still don’t know you. you were always here. then one day you weren’t really there. i look up to you, i always did. i wanted to be just like you, so i copied everything you did. i saw your favourite colour is black, so i was like hey black’s pretty neat. mom tells me stories about our childhood sometimes, i don’t remember a thing, but you used to hold my hand and break my things. you used to wipe my tears and pull my hair. you had things i didn’t, i had things you didn’t. mom and dad are tough on you, i can tell it’s different with me. we don’t talk anymore, i don’t think we ever really did. i miss fighting you, i miss laughing at you. i miss laughing with you. you picked me up from school because mom was busy, you heated up food for me because no one else was home. i played with your old toys, i used to wear your old clothes. i steal your new ones now. sometimes. i keep them back before you can know. I don’t remember you as a child anymore, though i’m sure we played together. i don’t know a life without you. i don’t know anything about your life. yet i know where you keep your secrets. i’ve always thought you were cool, i just wanted to be like you. why are we strangers then?
