Why Don't You Call Me Big Brother?

Why Won't I Call You Big Brother?

"Aiyah, why won't you just call me big brother aru?"

Why? I can't give you much of a clear answer, and for that I'm sorry. Being sorry is a big part of this, far bigger than you'll ever know. That's mostly because, I could never work up the courage to tell you. It's sounds so stupid and it is, but it's nothing something I can consciously control.

After the war you were so angry at me; something I not only understood but completely expected. With everything in me, trust me, I wanted to apologize. I wanted to spill all my woes to you, set our troubles aside and spend time moon gazing again. But all I offered was a peace treaty, a handshake and a forced smile. Was it pride that stopped me? Maybe. All I know is that when I came up to you, saw the hurt in your eyes, every single word I knew disappeared. I froze, became so self conscious and could only think to bow.

I miss you. I miss everything about you, your eyes, your smile, your voice. Yes you're still here and yes we've grown closer but there's still this eerie distance between us. It's only like there's a thin wall of glass, separating our hearts and minds every time we meet. I can see you, we've come so close, but no matter how it seems, no matter what it looks like... we can never really touch.

Every single time, you pat me on the back, smile at me and gently say "call me big brother." It's then that I see where we stand, that I realize how different our feelings for each other truly are. I want to grab your hand, tell you how I feel and pull into a warm hug. But I won't, my fearing of saying the wrong thing and facing my emotions will forever keep me shut in. An eternal loner, in not so splendid isolation.

Sometimes my exhausted response stems from pride. Hearing "brother" stings, making my stomach turn. To keep calm, I'll bite back "we're not brothers." Other times I hope that you'll question our relationship, ask me how I really see us, force me out of my shell and get me to say it. "I love you." But you never did. To be honest I never expected you too.

"Do you think I'm cute?" "Will you spend the spring festival with me?" Questions like that put a lump in my throat and a hole in my heart. I want to agree, go along with you. I want to speak my mind, watch your reaction, but reality will hit me far before. So a glare and a few choppy sentences is all my mind will allow me to offer you. On good days, I'll leave it at that. Bow, smile and move on to a different subject. On the not so good ones, I'll keep the glare, continue talking in hopes of you shutting me up and calling me out on my strange behavior. Then maybe we'd be able to crack the glass, even if just a little.

I hate that glass, so very much. The separation it brings you and I is painful. I hate being so close that I can see you smile, cry, laugh but can't get close enough to do those things with you. I'll never have peace, hiding behind this stupid wall. As long as we're distant it'll never be okay. As long as my emotions stay zipped behind prideful, fearful, unprepared lips you'll never truly understand. Please, please don't stop trying. Nothing will make me stop, nothing can. It gives me hope, hope that I need to survive seeing you.

So why don't I call you big brother? Because I not only feel unworthy of such a title, I also hope that you'll one day see me as more.