My best friend is leaving me behind. 

Michael, my older brother, and my closest friend is preparing to go away to college. He’s thought it through, picked a school far away, promised us to call before he’s even left, and very gently  started to pull away. It shouldn’t be a surprise, but it is, and it hurts despite knowing that it would eventually happen. That he would leave me alone. 

Alone.

Alone in a small house, in a small town, with even smaller minded people. Everyday I wake with these thoughts in my head. One day closer to his exit from my life.

My best friend is leaving me behind.

I always knew it would happen. He hates it here. So do I. We’ve lived our whole lives here, and never once have we thought of this place as home. It really shouldn’t hurt as much as it does that he wants to get as far away as possible.

My best friend is leaving me behind.

I push open the door to his room. Piles of books, unmade bed, papers strewn across the desk. Smiling pictures from all the places we’ve been, hanging from the newly painted light blue walls. I can already feel the change in the air of the room. Lonelier. Emptier.

The way he’s closed the lid on the keys of the piano, taken bookmarks out of novels he won’t have time to read, removed drawings I’ve made for him off the walls. They’re now resting at the bottom of a packed suitcase. A packed suitcase that our parents don’t know is already ready to leave when he is.

You’re leaving me behind.

He won't go for almost another year. And yet he’s already said his goodbyes. To his piano, to his friends, to our parents.

To me.

You’re leaving me behind.

Michael is sagged in his chair, eyes glazed, staring thoughtlessly at his wrinkled physics homework. He smiles at me when he sees me in the doorway, eyes lighting up.

“Hi,” I smile back, plopping down onto the blankets balled up on his bed.

“Hey,” he says, running a hand through his long hair.

You’re leaving me behind.

We sit in silence. I have no words for him and we were never ones to fill empty space with even more empty words. 

You’re leaving me behind.

And besides, I have the horrible feeling that if I open my mouth, all of it will come flooding out.

You’re leaving me behind. And there’s nothing I can do about it. You’re leaving me behind. And I can’t even bring myself to be angry with you. You’re leaving me behind. And I cannot blame you.

Because I’d leave me behind too. Because if I were given the chance, I’d run while I still could and never look back.

Never look back. You’re leaving me behind. Never look back.

Would you look back for me? Will you forget me too? Paint over me like you did your walls?

Michael is staring questioningly at me now. I smile again. It’s easy. Reassuring. A lie. I pull a book from a teetering pile and pretend to read. He shakes off his confusion and turns back to his homework. 

You’re leaving me behind. But believe me when I say I’ll be okay. You’re leaving me behind. But listen when I say I’m going to be fine. You’re leaving me behind. But please don’t worry about me anymore.

I try to think of things that I want to remember when he’s gone: The way he laughs, raucous and wild, like he doesn’t care who hears him. The way he apologizes for things that aren’t his fault, like he wants you to know that he cares. The way he can speak without saying a single word, how many times have we spoken without opening our mouths? I wish I could remember them all. But most of all I want to remember the way he smiles, shyly at first then bursting at the seams, eyes crinkling, whole face glowing with happiness.

I can’t remember the last time I saw a smile like that from him. He’s always tense, like he’s afraid his almost-there-reality will crumble if he’s not careful. 

You’re leaving me behind.

But you’ve paid your dues. You’ve struggled in silence for far too long, and I’ve let you, all because I don’t want to be without you. 

Michael, you’re leaving me behind, and I feel terribly wounded that you are, but I want you to be happy. Because I’ll forgive you for leaving me here if you can smile and truly mean it. If you’re happy, Michael, even if I’m alone, I’ll be happy too.

You’re leaving me behind. But it no longer hurts. You’re leaving me behind. But I want to see what is beyond this wasteland of an era. You’re leaving me behind. But I can feel the future smiling on us.

Even if we go ahead by ourselves.  Even if we never see eachother again. We’ll keep on going.

My brother. My best friend. My favorite person in the whole wide world. My Michael.

Goodbye.