I was crushed, completely aimless, my world utterly shattered. My brother, my best friend, and my rock was gone. The miles between us only grew larger as we continued down the long, winding, country road leading away from Tom’s new boarding school. Looking back on that day, I couldn’t even begin to tell you what that even road looked like. In fact, none of my memories that day were of things I actually saw, but instead the emotions I felt. Emotions like the blinding, uncontrollable sobbing in the backseat of a rental car that didn’t stop for hours, or the nauseous feeling in my gut when we walked to our terminal at Logan International. However, I especially remember what I felt on the flight home, the lost, empty, abandoned feeling that eats at you from within, the feeling of losing a part of yourself.

It was the middle of August, I had turned 16 a month ago, and my junior year of high school was right around the corner. I and my brother only had two precious weeks left of summer together, and boy did we know it. Yet, the weird part was that though Tom and I both knew exactly how many days we had left together, neither of us ever bothered to mention the actual number to each other. We tried to think about the future as little as possible and focused more on making memories at the moment. Despite being nearly inseparable for the majority of the summer, during those last two weeks Tom and I were magnets, everywhere I went he was there. We just couldn’t get enough of each other.

Anyone who has seen Tom and me together, knows that we get along well, however, the misconception is that it has always been that way. For the better part of my life, Tom and I have been arch rivals. No matter where we went we were always racing or competing or doing something to assert dominance over each other. Even though we never kept track of who won more races or caught more passes, we acted like we did. We could never just seem to stop arguing over something, it was nonstop. It was in our nature to compete with one another, but for whatever reason, during my sophomore year of high school that competitive nature was lost and Tom and I really started to drift apart.  Our interests changed and so did the people we were around. Naturally, I became less and less interested in Tom’s life and his decisions and focused on myself, and only myself, consequently impacting both Tom and I. Being Tom’s older brother, I take partial responsibility for his actions on the grounds that I influence him in a way that only an older brother can. I know this, being the middle child; my half-brother Nate has impacted me throughout my life through his actions and the various things he has taught me. In the same way, I impacted Tom.

Throughout Tom’s Eighth grade year he struggled to keep up with his school work; despite being an extraordinary student, but that wasn’t even the beginning. Tom also got bullied, got into fights at school, and started hanging around some sketchy people. Meanwhile, I was falling apart from the inside out. I wasn’t keeping up with my school work anymore, I had developed some bad habits, and wasn’t living up to what an older brother should be. By the end of the school year, my parents decided that Tom wouldn’t be going to public school but instead someplace far away. My parents let Tom choose which school he wanted to go to but all of the options were along the North East Coast.  Within two days my Mom was already planning visits to about 7 or 8 schools in the region. After the visits, Tom ended up choosing a school in Maine because of the beautiful campus and amazing athletic facilities. Slowly but surely Tom’s departure was becoming more and more real, and I had no clue how to handle it.

The inevitable day had finally come, Tom’s summer was officially over. The plan was to spend the weekend in Maine together one last time as a family before Tom started school. As we pulled into the driveway of our rental house, I remember looking over at Tom and seeing a single tear run down the side of his face, despite never making a sound. I never acknowledged that moment but I didn’t need to, we both knew exactly what each other was feeling but this time there was no running from it. The strangest part about that weekend was knowing from the beginning how horrible it was all going to end. Eventually, I broke down, I just couldn’t hold my feelings inside any longer. I ran into my parent's room one night with tears in my eyes and fell into my mother's outstretched arms. As she held me she shared words and reminded me of all the good times Tom and I shared together and the summer as a whole. But as I left her room she reminded me of the fact that Tom and I had spent all summer making memories to prepare us for this change, and that our relationship as brothers would ultimately grow stronger because of it.

Looking back on the day we dropped Tom off, I wish I could have given my past self a few pieces of advice. I would have told myself that Tom being away for a year is for the best, that it will better our relationship, and most importantly that it is temporary. I was so busy getting worked up at the thought of losing Tom that I never thought that I would find a new, amazing, resilient, piece of myself that I had never met before.