PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I've been having a recurring dream about our childhood bedroom for years now. There is variation to the dream, but certain themes appear with consistency. Joel and I are in our bedroom having an argument, as brothers near in age are wont to do, and the floor is covered in piles of wrinkled laundry. Sometimes we argue about video games and other times the argument is incomprehensible. To this day I still don't know why I keep having this dream, so I wanted to talk to you about it and see if maybe we could come up with a solution together.

Joel and I despised one another while growing up. I was a bit of a bully, as older brothers can be, and Joel had a way of pushing my buttons into bullying. I remember both of our parents being quite unnerved at how much we loathed one another's presence. Mom would often say, "someday when you're older you are going to love each other." Dad would say, "someday when you're older the two of you will be friends." Joel and I didn't agree on much, but we were united when our parents would suggest this impossible outcome. "No we will not!" one or both of us would say. I laugh now, as our parents were right. We've become close. He was even one of the groomsmen in my wedding. 

I regret the kind of brother that I was. There are two kinds of older brothers: the mentor you look up to who takes you under their wing and the tormentor whom you dread to be around. Sadly, I was most often the latter. I would call him fat, though he wasn't really overweight. He just wasn't skinny like Carl and I were. I would make fun of him sometimes for being so afraid of everything, for crying as often as he did (I only cried in secret), and for being so physically awkward. To get back at me he would call me stupid, because my grades were never up to par. I was highly sensitive to being called stupid, as I already had a complex about my intelligence, and would blow up in a fit of rage whenever he insulted me so. 

One time I put him in a football shaped toy box that we had and sat on the lid as he screamed to be let out. I asked him once as adults if he remembered that, and he said, "No, but that explains why I'm claustrophobic." I felt terrible when he told me that, and even more terrible that as a child I just laughed at his fear. Looking back I really don't know why I was such a mean brother, but I suppose it was for the same reason that all bullies are mean. I was hurting and I wanted someone else to hurt worse than me. And the truth is, that realization about myself hurts worse in retrospect than all the instances of bullying in which I was the victim.

Sometimes, when I'm tempted to hold a grudge for a perceived wrong, I remind myself that I have been the villain too. We are capable of hurting people, Little Evan. I hope you always remember that you are capable of doing terrible things, even to people you love. Not because I wish you to harm people, but because I wish you to remain vigilant when such temptations of cruel behavior present themselves. Fortunately, Joel has forgiven me my past, but forgiving myself hasn't been so easy. Always be wary whenever you feel compelled to hurt someone. In time the debt of guilt repayed will avenge you many times over.

From me to you,

Big Evan

P.S. - I called Joel and asked him if he had any insights into the dream and he said that it just sounds like a memory from our childhood. Don't worry though, we'll get to the bottom of it eventually!