Love letter to my brother

 

Dear Brother,

I don’t always know how to say this without fumbling over my own silence, but I love you. Deeply, endlessly, quietly.

We don’t talk much. Life pulls us in different directions, and the days roll on faster than either of us can catch them. But even in the space between our conversations, you’re there, in the memories, in the soft corners of my heart that still see you as the little boy who once reached for my hand without thinking.

Now you’re this grown man. Twenty-something and carrying the weight of the world in a way I wish you didn’t have to. I see it, even if I don't always say it. I see the tiredness in your eyes that you try to blink away, the strength you wear like a second skin, and the softness underneath that the world doesn’t always deserve.

And maybe I don’t say this enough, but you are doing okay. More than okay. Even in your quiet, even when you feel like you’re falling behind or unsure of your next step, I’m proud of you.

There’s a version of love that doesn’t need daily proof. It lives in the way I talk about you to people who’ll never meet you. In how I carry your name gently in prayer. In the way I still remember your laugh from years ago and find myself smiling like you’re right here.

So this is my love letter to you, the brother I don’t see enough but never stop loving. I’m here. Always. In your corner, whether you call or don’t, whether you need me or think you don’t.

And when life lets us sit down together again, really sit, I’ll hold that moment close like a secret I’ve waited too long to tell.

Love always,

Your big sister.