I Swear You Will Be Fine

Dear Josh,

Not to whinge, but this week has been horrifying. I can now appreciate how the pain had eased over the year, because it feels like we just lost you again. I knew December would be bad, but this is insane. It’s impossible to escape remembering last December, which is the last time I spent an extended period of time without you. On top of that, there seem to be triggers left, right and centre. Clinical teachers who joke excessively about considering suicide if we don’t get the clinical instrument right, or Bryan Cranston unexpectedly killing himself in a play (I watched this because you liked him dude).

And yet, I was looking through my messages for something else and unexpectedly found this. When I started junior college, I wrote my one and only article for the school magazine, INK. For some reason, it was about you. I loved embarrassing you when you were physically here, and that’s not going to end now.

“Before I began school at AC, I had to sit down with the most important guy in my life and have a heart-to-heart chat. We went over what type of greetings would be deemed appropriate in school, how much time we had to spend together and his opinion on how many male friends I should have. At the end of it, my fourteen-year-old brother made sure to assure me that any guy I was seen within a metre of would be mentioned to my mother.

The only other time that my brother and I have been in the same school was in kindergarten, so it seemed only fitting that I finish my education in Singapore with him as well. Nevertheless, not only did I have to worry over being in a co-ed school for the first time, but while having the most overprotective brother possible overlooking my every move. A laugh a second too long over a boy’s joke was sure to be deemed a confession of my unending love under my brother’s watchful eye.

Little did I know that this would be the least of my problems. I had walked into AC assuming that my brother would be known as my brother, rather than me being known as the Prince of Egypt’s sister. My mother’s amusement over my shock simply reminded me of the fact that to the rest of the school, my brother was just himself, rather than the annoying kid who still pulls my ponytail in the SAC.

Unfortunately, my brother quickly realised the advantage he had over me in terms of established relationships with some mutual teachers, and wasted no time in trying to ruin my life. Before my insanely scary but wonderful PE teacher even knew my name, my brother had already told him that I was terrified of him. While it was rather naive of me to think that my brother wouldn’t have any rapport with teachers who had taught him for more than a year, I could not help but be alarmed that I couldn’t react in the way that I normally would : yell at him. For the first time in my life, I had to treat my brother like an actual human being who could joke around with his teachers rather than (in my opinion) the lesser version of me. Finally having to see my brother as the maturing teenager that he was was equal parts alarming and enlightening; gone was the child who bit me when I didn’t let him watch Dora the Explorer, and here was the young adult who knows what small yet harmless things to say to people to bother me.

However, as to whether this newfound maturity extends to his opinion on my male friends is yet to be decided. Just last week, my brother gave me his blessing to date one of my classmates. Rather bewildered, since I had expressed zero interest in anyone since school began, I had to ask why, to which he responded ,’He sounds witty.’ While not exactly based upon the nonexistent outpouring of my feelings, it wasn’t a result of him seeing my classmate and I speaking to each other for a millisecond either. The fact that he was capable of judging my friends based on what I spoke of them, regardless of how inaccurate his opinions may be, merely reminded me of how his thinking was maturing. Instead of running to baseless accusations, as too many of my classmates still do, he had observed my running commentary on school happenings and come to his own opinion on who he approved of for his sister. Even though I wholeheartedly disagreed with him, I couldn’t help but feel touched that whoever I may be interested in meant enough to him to put a decent amount of thought into it.

Although no longer being able to behave towards him like the five year old I see him as, there are still the inevitable glimpses of the childish mummy’s boy that he is at heart. Whether in front of friends, seniors or his teachers, he makes it a point to say ‘Love you’ before we part ways in the morning, and not a day passes when he doesn’t try to ride shotgun on the way to school. Having gotten to see him in such a different light for the first time has really opened my eyes up to how much he has changed, improved and become a person that I can say that I am proud to be the sister of, especially since he’ll never read this article. However, at the end of the day, all this just reminds me of is that he’ll forever be my little brother. Regardless of how many seniors he’s friends with or how much he loves Kendrick Lamar, he’s always going to be the kid that thought chocolate milk came from brown cows, and I hope that never changes.”

Hopefully it’s very obvious that this was written by a 17-year-old me about a 14-year-old you. The last thing you said to me was ‘Bye Jess. Love you. Drive safe’, as you did every day. I’m glad that didn’t change.

Love, Acca