fall

Lucian Dyok

There are things I wanted more than love.
Not fame. Not sex. Not even freedom.
I wanted belonging - the kind that doesn't shake when you do. I wanted people who'd see me in my ugliest moments and still call me brother. I wanted a we in a world of I, I, I. A brotherhood. Something solid. Something loud and rowdy and impossible to lose.
Maybe that's why I laughed a little too loud at parties. Why I touched shoulders when I spoke. Why I listened more than I talked. Not because I was fake - I just wanted to be the kind of person you didn't forget. The kind people leaned on.
But that morning, none of those things felt heavy yet. That morning, we were just a family in a car, windows rolled halfway down, the air thick with salt and the kind of music you don't admit you like.