Coming Home [H.S.]

003

*The next morning-

Micheal was dead asleep on the couch, slightly snoring with his head leaned on top of mine. The noise instantly jolted me awake from the soft state of sleep I was in. The sun was just barely coming through the windows and it was blaring right into my eyes, which caused me to wake up before him. I then realized I fell asleep sitting on the couch. My neck was stiff and it hurt like a bitch. 

After Micheal responded to my comment he didn’t say anything else to me, and I didn’t try to make any conversation after that. We both just stayed quiet for a moment. I couldn’t tell if he was mad at me or the situation itself. I was guessing a bit of both, but when he just hugged me I felt a little less guilty about everything. Still guilty, but “less guilty”. I just feel like with him we are always out of sync. Never being on the same page or same beat. 

I still don’t want to talk about it though. 

There is still a lot I'm not ready to talk about yet. 

I lifted my head from underneath him, his head continuing to slump to the side. I hesitated, sitting on the far edge of the couch, my hands on the sides of me ready to push off. He hung close to his shoulder, still leaning back onto the couch. His eyebrows furrowed for a bit, but then slowly the creases faded and he returned to a soft looking face. He looked somewhat peaceful, I won’t lie.

I felt bad that I was leaving this early, but I just couldn’t be home right now. I don’t want to repeat what happened yesterday. Knowing Micheal I knew that the conversation and argument we had yesterday would be brought up again or bring unneeded tension. I’d like to forget about it honestly, just move past it and pretend that it never happened. 

He looks so peaceful, I never see that anymore really. He smiles a lot, he laughs a lot, and he teases a lot. But he’s still a little kid in my eyes, a little kid that just seems so stressed with everything. He hides it well, that's where me and him are alike. We’ve found ways to push away the deep rooted tethers of heartbreak underneath so that we could portray the person we wish we were. It’s easier that way. 

Micheal wants to be the strong one, and in a way, he really is. He’s the thing that’s always kept the craziness of me and Louis together. Two crazy and idiotically reckless teenagers, ready to fucking combust at any moment, being held together by the younger brother that was just as terrified as the rest of us. 

He had to grow up too fast. And I’m forever going to be sorry to him for it. 

Micheal wants to be the strong one, and that's the role that he continues to play because he knows that no one else is going to be playing that part. He’s that good person, when no one else can do it, he’ll put himself through hell to help others. In a way it’s so heroic, but so idiotically stupid. He’s draining himself, no, we are draining him. For God sakes, he’s my younger brother, but the roles feel reversed. I feel like instead of me taking care of him he’s taking care of me. 

He’s not ever going to admit it but it hurts him deep down. I can see what all the years of playing soldier has done to him. He’s no longer a kid and he had to become a man too quickly. 

If I had known then that I’d have such a big effect on him, maybe some things would have changed. 

He doesn’t get a lot of peace anymore. So seeing him passed out like a five year old, on the couch, made my heart just ache. He’s my little brother, and in the end I just want to be the one that can protect him. He takes care of me, but he shouldn’t have to. I want to be the one that can do that. I wish I could have just gone back to when he was so young and just shelter him away from all that was about to come into his life. Maybe he’d have some more moments of peace in his life.