Memories always seem to get to you at the most inopportune time. Sometimes they made me think of God as one cheeky supreme being. He enjoys teasing His servants when they thought they had the best cards in their hands, He gave one to surprise, to test, and to see how they respond to it. Not out of spite, not out of vengeance, not out of superiority. Only out of love, out of what He knows is the best of us.
That's why, sometimes even when I'm tired and full of tears, I laughed out loud with Him. You got me there, my Lord. I told Him.
At times like these, when I am in need of an ear to lend. I remember my brother. He had been my voluntary therapist more than what any other can offer me. Even in his imperfections, I cannot conjure any other who had been as persistent as he is in his patience of listening to me, or answering my calls, or watching me cry for no reason, or laughing at my jokes, or taking me out of my squares and showing what the world can be for me.
I remember my brother for the lightness of heart he offered me after hours of pouring my heart out to him. Random things, weird things, pointless things. He never failed to listen. I remember my brother for his impartial and concrete ways of seeing things. When I agonized over things, only one word from him would silence me. I remember my brother for what he had done for me and what I can see of my family. For being a part of his and going home grateful of mine.
Now I remember my brother, when in my strength and my pride of being independent. He sat beside me and said I didn't have to go through everything alone. He is there, many people are there, to be by my side when I need them. Now I remember to open my heart, to allow another person to come close and sit beside me, just like my brother did.
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