index | archives | notes | reviews | FAQ Saturday, Jun. 21, 2008 | 12:00 a.m. [-] My darling baby brother crossed the stage, a hulking mass of cap and gown and overgrown teenager. Graduated, and eighteen now. So I did what any responsible big sister would do; I took him and the boyfriend to a hookah bar. The boyfriend and I keep discussing future plans, marriage, children, moving. I keep asking him if this is going to work, and there's a little voice in my head that always answers, but the answer changes. His doesn't. "Why?" I finally asked. "Because we love eachother," he said, and immediately, my voice. So what? How do you know? Even though it doesn't mean anything? He shrugs, to stop the flow, but it's too late because I'm a flood of, Things Will Go Wrong, This Won't Work, I Can't Do This, I'm Afraid to Be Happy. And none of it deters him. What the fuck? Called the best friend last night to wish him happy birthday, at midnight. Not talking to him for six months doesn't make the twentieth any less his birthday, but he still sounded surprised. He should know me better than that by now. I always call. << | N | >> whatiscopyright.org