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The best thing to ever happen to me

Tonight’s writing exercise is a special one dedicated to someone who is very important to me, and without whom I would not be who I am today

If you knew me well when I was nine years old, then the answer would surprise you. In fact, you wouldn’t believe me. It just doesn’t flesh with what you would have seen day in and day out.

If you knew me when I was five years old, then it may make a bit more sense. The thing is, at five years old, the brainwashing is in full force. You’re told to be a certain way. To act a certain way. There’s a complete innocence to it as well. It’s exciting, and the anticipation around it all tends to catch you up and carry you with it. I also find that there’s an appeasement process involved which makes the whole process a bit easier to bear.

I think you’d guess it best if you’ve known me later in life. Especially around the time that I graduated from high school and through college. I don’t think I made too many decisions without considering… my younger brother.

He was supposed to be a she. Everything was pink. I remember how excited everyone was. Grandparents were in town, and we lived in the apartment complex off of Blue Ridge. I think I drove everyone by that place at least once in the last five years to say I used to live there. It puts in perspective where the journey started.

I don’t really remember much else until he was about two years old, and would come out into the cul-de-sac naked while my friends and I were riding bikes. His crib/bed/whatever was right below my bunk bed, and I’m not sure if I imagined this but I’m pretty sure there was some jumping from one bed to another going on. Not necessarily a smart thing to do, but fun nonetheless.

I think from the point where he was a pain in the ass, until he stopped being a pain in the ass, we probably fought non-stop. It was pretty insane. It was quite healthy though. We would really do everything together, and then he would annoy the hell out of me, and then I’d beat him up. I was told in high school that I needed to talk to someone about it, but I’m not sure that it was anything more than a big brother defining who the boss was.

I’m pretty sure we all know now that Doruk is in fact the boss.

I’m not sure when he quit being a pain in the ass, but I find myself constantly amazed at the man who my little brother has grown up to be. He has an immense desire to excel. It isn’t an outward bound need to show to others. I’ve found it to be a very fierce, very passionate form of desire. With this same energy, he loves; he thinks; he laughs; he cries. It has no beginning; no end; no need to operate by the rules that define others.

And so others follow him. They laugh when he smiles, and they reach new heights by simply standing upon his shoulders. He acts as the proverbial giant for those who want to see further than their own destinies would allow. And all of this at 20 years old. Imagine what the next twenty years have to offer.

Happy Birthday to the best thing that ever happened to me… my little brother, Doruk.