The usually calm and welcoming air of our quiet countryside home was thick, thicker than it had been in quite a while. Thank goodness we didn’t invite any guests, as they might have had to brush the attitude off their clothes when they left. Loud and angered disputes drowned out the harmonious music playing in the background and our never ending smiles dwindled, waiting for words to reignite them. Mainly two words came to mind, the two words that could turn everything all around in one swift motion. “I’m sorry.”1
He forgot…he lied. That’s all I could think about for an entire week. Maybe it was my hormones doing the thinking. Or possibly feelings of disappointment and broken trust blended unevenly together with the knowledge of his impending departure. What a disastrous recipe. The cookies were indeed burning in my oven, and if things didn’t repair themselves, the whole house would be aflame soon.2
He forgot my birthday, how could he do that? Than try to cover it up? We spent years coming this far, years sanding off the jagged edges of our beautiful relationship. It blossomed ever so slowly but unlike any other I’ve ever seen. Yet the very last week.. BAM.. the pretty flower sitting so peacefully silent suddenly revealed itself as artificial. This silence is paralyzing, does he even care? If I had the power, I’d become invisible, if only for a moment. I’d jump in his mind, simply to erase the stubbornness imprinted in his genes with bold letters. The fact that he requests an apology is beyond me, I have nothing to apologize for. What did I ever do? Of course I yelled at him, but it was only reasonable considering what he did, right? 3
I lay awake puzzled, all these nonsense questions forming a cloud above me. I’m just wondering when the answers will rain down on me, give me a little insight to when the shiny rainbow will pop out once again. I guess I’ll have to see how tomorrow goes. Tomorrow…the last day. 4
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So here we are already I thought to myself while standing awkwardly beside him. The summer morning breeze blew loose strands of my hair free. Ironic I thought it, with my frazzled pieces of hair leaving, so was my brother. Catching a whiff of finality’s stench, I cringed and shrunk my shoulders. It seemed just yesterday we were digging in the dirt with toy cars, throwing paper airplanes, spitballing grandma and arguing so greedily over who got the Christmas stocking decorated with embroidered puppies. Yet eighteen years have passed us by ever so gracefully, each moment taken for granted. I felt selfishly heartbroken, yet the smile I’d been waiting for all week finally showed its face. As I stole one last hug before he hopped aboard the bus, nothing had to be said. He knew how I felt, he just knew. 6
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