I realize that this is falling on deaf ears so to speak, but this is more of a cathartic message than a true one anyways. I miss you, and while I don't usually show it, I think of you a lot. Losing a loved one is difficult, but often the focus goes to the parents, since few ideas are less terrifying than the idea of burying one's own child. Siblings are often called the Forgetten Mourners because of this, when really, they share the same intensity of grief and loss as the parents do, perhaps even moreso. There's a saying that says losing a parent means losing the past, losing a child means losing the future, and to lose a sibling means to lose both. I always thought that if there was one constant in my life, it would be you. No matter what, I would have one person that knows me better than anyone and I them, someone who could help guide me when I was lost and someone I could always trust to be there. A big brother that I thought would always be there to watch over me and protect me, even if he was pretty bad at it and I was frankly the one going to be doing most of the helping. Some day, I would be at his deathbed, not as a child but as an elderly man who had lived his life right alongside mine. I still think about what I would do if he was here, alive and with the living. Annoy the life out of him, to live up to the little brother quota, most likely. I wish that I had noticed how occasionally my typically lovable antics crossed over into the realm of pestering, and maybe we would've been at odds less. It feels like I spent so little time with him, despite having spent years with him. Everyday, I see things that make me wonder how he would react now. Would he be proud of how I am now, how I've developed in the years since and matured? Maybe our taste in musics would have finally found some similarities? This show seems like something he'd like, what would he think of it? I remember all of the times I would play a game of Skylanders with him as a little kid, and how he would always manage to beat me except for a small portion of times where he seemed to be a suspiciously easy opponent, and I think of all that I would give to play for just one more night with him. Sure, I was a sore loser and many times there were tears streaming down my face when he continually managed to defeat me or was too tired to continue, but every time I wanted to play more. I remember later in life, more recently, we would watch shows together. I remember us sitting in his room watching episodes of Naruto playing, me rambling on as I made comments on everything that occurred on screen, my brother occasionally poking in with a comment or a laugh but otherwise content to continue on with the activity. I something wonder how much those moments meant to him, because to me it meant the world to spend time with him. It was a rare enough occasion to spend time with him without eventually devolving into a fight that the times that we could simply coexist and laugh together were moments I treasured. One last thing that I wish he was here for is likely the inverse for what I imagine is a regret for parents or older siblings who have suffered loss, and that is wishing he was here to watch me grow. When losing a child, you lose the future, as the saying went. You miss out on seeing them develop and grow, seeing what kind of person they would become as they enter that strange, strange world we live in. I've changed a lot since Luiriel's passing, both subtly and not so subtly. Of course, I've grown taller, my hair has seemed to embrace the curls that once laid dormant only to be seen in showers and bathrooms, but as we age, there is more that changes that simply our appearance. My personality, at least to me, has shifted a lot since then. I've become more confident, I've locked down a sense of humor that's actually (hopefully) humorous, and my taste in media has matured. I've learnt more about myself, both in terms of who I want to be, what I'm interested in, who I like, what really is my favorite color (it's still red, just a different shade as it turns out), and more. Opinions of others have never been a concern for me, something I acknowledge but ultimately couldn't be bothered to care about or worry myself over, no matter who they were. However, I made an exception for one person:Luiriel. I wouldn't change myself drastically for his opinion, to clarify as that would be unhealthy, but as I've gotten older, I've realized something. Me and him were actually quite similar in regards to taste and humor, however both in different periods. Before, my extent of knowledge regarding the film industry extended exclusively to superheros and Disney before ending abruptly with an "I Don't Care" sign. Meanwhile, he was an aspiring script writer. Now, my taste has developed, and the psychological thrillers and art-house films I used to yawn and scoff at are now ones I find interesting, although Disney and superheroes still hold a place in my heart. The same goes for taste in music, I've heard many songs now that I've enjoyed and immediately connected to previous ones I had heard blasting from his phone's speakers, leading me to wonder if he would have enjoyed them as well. I suppose I'll never know, and maybe I don't need to know for certain. Luiriel Santana may have had his rough edges, but he was a good cookie. Speaking of cookie, that was an inside joke he and I used to have, and by inside joke, I mean I would repeatedly say that in a funny voice that made him laugh. Making him laugh was an amazing feeling, and so I said cookie quite often. This wasn't a vastly important detail that I had to mention, I just wanted to since it was pretty unique. I miss you, Luiriel. If Heaven's a thing, I hope to see you there. Assuming you are there, I suppose purgatory is also a good assumption, if Heaven's more of a cured-cancer-and-ended-slavery type place. If it isn't, then you still do live one in both my thoughts and in your atoms that will never disappear. Thanks to anyone reading this far down, I'm glad you came, and whoever you are to Luiriel, I'm sure he is too.