I stand on a precipice,
I struggle to keep my balance,
I open myself (I open myself)
One stitch at a time.
Finally yes,
Finally now,
Finally somebody takes me away.
Finally free.
Finally he can cut through these strings and open my wings.

My brother moves out this Sunday.

I sat with him going over his schedule, where his classes are, where he should go to eat his meals, where he should hang out in his time between classes… all the while I just had this burning urge to yell, “Don’t do it! Save yourself!” I kept remembering that overwhelming feeling of confusion mixed with fear and loneliness I got driving myself away from home, towards who knows what… how I drowned it out with music when I crossed the Oklahoma border and how it returned, to my surprise, on my drive to Denton though I’d been here before. I want to explode and tell my brother how he doesn’t know just how much free time he’s really going to have, how it’s gonna be jarring and feel lonely most of the time… all the stuff I know I can’t say because it will just make him afraid. All the stuff I know I need to hold back because no one ever told me and I had to fight through it in my own way. It’s hard to have some information and not be able to warn him, even though my best advice would be to just stay home. Just don’t do it. Give up, like so many others have. But that’s not him, that’s not what he’ll do. When I remind myself that he wouldn’t, I remind myself that I didn’t. And now that he’s coming to Denton, we can be in this together. I can’t take care of him and he can’t take care of me, but if I’m honest I’m still as lost as I was. There’s no warning I can give because the fear is still there, lurking in different things you have to face from year to year. But it’s a part of growing up, I’ve guessed, and that is the one fact I havebecome more comfortable with.