My little brother is leaving. He's going to be gone for so long. He's going to be so far away.
See, it's weird, because I won't be not-seeing him for any longer than I usually don't-see him. Since he's been at school, it's not unusual for us to go months without seeing each other. And if I go visit him in Germany, it'll only be two months, and then the visit, and then two more months before he's home again. And then we all go on a big family vacation to Ireland.
But he'll be so far away, you know? He'll be so far away. Where people don't speak the language he does.
He's going to be lonely, sometimes. It's inevitable.
I just hope he has an amazing time.
What also gets me, I think, is that this is such a big deal to him, this is going to be so different from anything he's done before, it's going to seem like he's there forever, to him. And to his girlfriend. But to me, nothing much is going to be different. Time is going to pass as it always does, and from here, four months doesn't seem like a long time. Four months ago it was Christmas. That doesn't seem like so long ago. Shit, my decorations are still up. Four months in another country will feel like a lifetime. No?
I guess I feel as though something momentous should happen before he leaves. Something wonderful and fraternal, a special send-off. I don't know what to do about that. My brother and I like and respect and admire each other a really, really lot, but we haven't lived together in eight years. We like and love each other, but we don't have important, intimate conversations. So why should we suddenly have one now that he's leaving? What would we talk about? I get the feeling he's maybe not that type of guy, anyway.
I don't know.
I just worry. I want him to have a good time. I don't know, I feel weird. And sad. Love you, Sean.