Acceptance
"The book is over there."
As he points, I am reminded of my older brother, Anthony. How I used to guide him through our library when he was given an assignment. He never seemed to remember names, only their meaning. And I used to be the one who could recall pictures and emotions. I still am. There were two different pieces of the puzzle coming together to give a greater purpose in life. With plenty more pieces around them, they began to create something bigger. Something that went beyond themselves. Into an intangible state of existence only experienced by those of noble intentions. This had somehow become my family. It's as if I regained some of the life lost by my hands -- some by the lack of them. Whatever had once kept me grounded now seemed to float somewhere far. Off shore.
In their little fights I find character. Truth in their eyes. Sometimes the anger flares, but it never lingers. It merely gets lost in the apologies and understandings. Through these years I had been convinced that there did not exist a garden without snakes. I only had Nyves to carry me when my step faltered. To stop me from taking the plunge into certain death. To comfort me when my screams of terror filled our home in the middle of our slumber. He is still the only person to have any entry into the darkest parts of my mind. The only one who knows his way around them -- who does not get lost in the maze.
But I've smiled around them without there being a need to. I've felt worry when one has taken too hard a strike. There have been many little reminders of it all. Of what it was like before the actual training. How it felt like to be surrounded by people who actually didn't kill each other. I would turn my back on them when we are all together - enjoying ourselves - and have the thought of a blade being sunk between my shoulders be one of the least in my mind. To destroy blissful ignorance was one of the hardest things I've had to do.
Yet here we are. Going through mud and muck together as a whole. As brothers and sisters. Sometimes it makes it difficult to be bluntly honest. A habit my social graces could do without - yet a behavior that has become as second nature as breathing. I get angry with them. I want to hit them over the head with a frying pan. I want to throw them out of the way of cannonfire. I want them to smile for the rest of their lives.
I'd not have it any other way.
You can choose your friends but you can't choose your family.
