As I sit here eating with my brother, and maybe it’s the past episodes but I’m thinking of you.
How if I introduced you to this entree I’m eating, you’d complain it’s too spicy, and I tease you.
Later, you tell me you can handle the spice, and try some absurd hot sauce without making a face, and tell me to have some, before spitting it out.
We laugh.
And I wonder if that even sounds like you. Has that ever been like you? Have I known you? Will I ever get the chance to know you again?
The answer, for all I know, is no.
Maybe now.
Maybe forever.