You ain't heavy, you're my brother

On siblings

Feb 01, 2025

Siblings are an odd thing. They’re the closest family you have. Closer than parents. Hauntingly close. You don’t have a tear of authority and helplessness between each other like you do with parents. Its more the understanding and resentful air of knowing you came out the same womb. You grew in the same house, listened to the same voices screaming in the other room. You have the same song that makes you sickeningly nostalgic, especially if played in the car. You have the same memories over Ludo tables and laughter infused sleepovers. But at the same time, you hate most things about each other. The heavy snoring and slow walking. Intertwined in blood but never with the same football team. One’s silver, one’s gold. Anger that could kill, patience that could resurrect. Soda addict, anti soda. Pink, green. Likes the right side of the bed, doesn’t care but will also fight for the right side. Siblings are like a bird that poops on your window and roof and coos all day and night long. Yet you feed it, sit by it and cry, let it nip at your hair and get worried for it.

I don’t have sisters, so I’ll talk about having brothers. Brother and sisters are calmer than sister sisters I think. We don’t fight much. I scream at him when he eats my snacks and he cries if I refuse to give him the PC. We snap at each other while going and coming to school. I get mad if he doesn’t help me, he never really needs help. We have a somewhat good relationship. But there is still that complexity. He’s born with privilege. He’s a man, and he’s younger. He doesn’t get goosebumps when another femicide makes the headlines, his ears don’t perk up. He doesn’t understand most feminism discourse unless I explain it. He gets why I can’t stay out late with him, but he will never get it. Not truly. He doesn’t understand why I chew my lips dry during exam season, and why I’m always shaking under the thoughts of my career. He’s always been easygoing. Not particularly caring for grades or academics. He does well for himself, has made some money here and there doing small work like editing, making websites, boosting accounts, etc. He has good survivability, I don’t. All I know are words and how to string them. How to approach cats. Every lyric to I Know The End by Pheobe Bridgers. I’m the type of person people like having around as they do work, he’s the type of person who works. And only one of these people get paid and live well.

There’s no resentment between us, I don’t think. There use to be, before 2020. I was an angry little girl, and he was sick of being pushed around. I yelled at him constantly, and he cried. We shared a room but not words. I’d never play Hot Wheels with him but he let me do his makeup whenever. He broke my teeth once by headbutting me and I set his house on fire in Minecraft. But then money got short, and parents got busy. We had a baby brother. So he’d play Hot Wheels with him and I’d make the bottle and noodles. I put him to sleep and he made sure he remained asleep. We called truce under the pressure of keeping a baby alive and healthy. Its been like that since. No more fights, no more resentment. I gifted him a keyboard he really wanted and he gifted me books and makeup. There is however, envy between us. I envy how talented he is, how fast he learns things, his nonchalance regarding academics, how much funnier he is, level headed, and hardworking. He envies how quick I make friends, how I can talk my way into everything, how mom dad listen to me more, how much cleaner English I speak. Envy, not jealousy. We don’t steal from each other, we don’t want to take anything. We just want it for ourselves as well. He calls me unfunny but still laughs, I call him a bhooker1 but still get him food. We inch away from one another when sitting together but still fall asleep on each other’s shoulders. We’re siblings. Its what we do.

And I don’t know about him, but I’d do anything for him. I’ve yelled at multiple people in public for him, gotten mad at my mom for him, sneaked him in parties and spent my money on his purchases. I’d die for him, but who wouldn’t? I’d die for a great many things. What’s more special, is that I’d live for him. I have lived for him. I’ve decided I can’t leave his bum ass alone, he’d be a mess. No one can handle his disgusting jokes and screechy laugh but me. I have to be here until he gets responsible enough, which I think is never. I’ll never let him have the last cookie, or candy, but I’d break someone’s arm if they have the one he wants. I hate when he touches my things but my lip balm rolls around in his backpack. I taught him how to wear perfume properly and how to tie his laces (which he still can’t do by the way). I’ve held his hand when baba’s running late and he thinks we’ve been left behind . “He forgot about us” “He hasn’t. And if he has, we’ll take a taxi home. I know the way. Mama does it all the time” “Really?” “Of course, now stop crying. I have money for the fare too, look”. We know each other’s friends names by heart, we know each other’s food orders and he still sometimes cries when baba’s running late, and I pat his back and tell him we’ll be fine. He’s not broken my teeth in a while and I haven’t burned Minecraft houses. His loud gaming has become a comforting background noise and he kind of looks forward to my yapping and overly detailed stories. I put his games on update and he gets me water when I ask. We’re siblings. We let things go, we accept things. We’re closer than we’d ever admit. An irreplaceable relationship. You can parent a child and see a father in someone but where will you get a makeshift brother? Nowhere. Nowhere.

I had something completely different thought out for this post but it ended up being this (istg this has been happening way too much). I’ve been wanting to write something on siblings for A WHILE now so I’m glad I could finish this up. I think I’ll attempt at a poem soon but yeah hope yall liked whatever this is.

Word or made up word for someone who only eats, used in an insulting way. Can also mean greedy.