When I imagined moving away to college, there were a few things that I could anticipate missing. Obviously taking priority would be my cat, followed by friends, parents, car, and (last but certainly not least) avocados. Noticeably missing from this list was my little brother. Now it’s not that I (in some strange episode of Home Alone-esque amnesia) had temporarily forgotten that I had a brother, nor were we sworn enemies. I just didn’t fully grasp that—after 17 years together— I was no longer going to be across the hall.
My brother and I have always been polar opposites. He’s the sun to my moon, if the sun made a habit of walking into the moon’s bedroom unannounced to show the moon 7 funny Vines, fart repeatedly, turn all the lights on, and leave. However, before I left home for the bustling metropolis of Gambier, I noticed a change in our usual antics. Small phrases of realization like “Wow, you’re not going to be here next year…” began to trickle into our typical banter of pleasantly screaming obscenities at each other (brother/sister relationships are hard to explain).
Now that I’m away, my friendship with my brother has gotten stronger. I’m able to see him as more than that random shaggy haired kid living across the hall who once caused me to get 8 stitches by pushing me off a bed. I miss the random stories he would bring up over dinner and the phrases he would invent that only made sense to himself. We don’t talk everyday, but when we do the conversation now lasts longer than a few Y/N answers. After 17 years together we finally have new material to update each other on. He can keep me caught up on our parents’ antics and I can offer whatever nuggets of wisdom I’ve learned after a few months in college*. He still sends me links to funny videos and I still help him edit his papers. Occasionally, I’ll receive a little gem such as:
As I continue to adjust to life at college, I’m excited to see how my relationship with my brother evolves. I want to hear more about his goals as he prepares to apply to colleges next year as well as other shenanigans that I’m sure he’ll get himself into.
I’m sure when I return home this Thanksgiving we’ll resume our typical half angry/half playful banter and he’ll probably (definitely) fart/burp/do-something-disgusting aggressively in my direction a few times. Who knows, I might not even mind as much! It’s funny that by moving over 700 miles away I feel closer to my brother, and I’m lucky to have found a friend in him even if we’re no longer across the hall.
*Note: the advice that I am qualified to provide after college thus far is “Pet the kitty as much as possible before you leave!!” and “Don’t take a single taco night at home for granted!!”