I sat with him as he packed up his carry on bag and did what I've been doing for the past week whenever I imagine him leaving us - I fought back tears so I wouldn't make it harder on him to leave than it already is. His time here is done, he's done all he can in this town and it was time for him to move on. I told him again that I'm proud of him and the choices he has made, that I couldn't love him more if I tried, and that he always has a home to come back to whenever he needs it. He held me by the now packed trunk of his best friend's car and rocked me from side to side, each of us only able to whisper and even then our voices threatening to crack. Then I gave him a kiss on the cheek, pushed him away playfully, and told him to get the hell out of here. I had to, I couldn't take any more, and didn't want the flood to come where he'd see it.
I'm going to miss you until I see you next spring, baby brother, I love you and already miss you so much it hurts. I cannot see what I am typing.
