You were my favorite friend at school. You were the only one I can tell everything and anything to. You understood a lot more than you thought.

You were the only one who has the same sense of sarcasm as I do. You were also the sort of person who felt excited over the littlest bits of life. I use to think you were crazy.

You were like a brother and friend rolled into one. I could always go to you for advice, and you shield me when I need help from the vast world. It's not like you laid off the insults, either.

I can spend hours on the phone, and even when you have piles of homework, you'd always take time to listen to my adversities. Why? I always wondered. It was because you were bored, wasn't it? Eh. Maybe you actually wanted to listen sometimes. I never understood. And I yelled at you. Kept on yelling because I was frustrated. And you never got mad, you understood...at times.

You always hated the way I'd try to sound sophisticated and vogue, even back in third grade. And you'd tell me. You'd never hide your opinions of me. You were the first one to pledge his vote to me for 7th grade president, the first to ever really believe in me.

I took you for granted, though. Everybody knew that. I talked about you behind your back, maybe because you weren't as "popular" or "cool" as my friends. I didn't want to seem like you. Have a good side that's so deeply hidden. I was never able to apologize. I'd remember crying myself to sleep, feeling awfully guilty for all the spite, but a shooting star would always appear from the sky. With all my heart, I'd wish that I'd be able to say I were sorry to you. If only you knew how much I wanted to say all this to your face. I just had far too much pride. But, after so many years, here I am. Actually telling you words that I have never revealed to anyone.

You are my friend. My brother. Ever thought you were a part of me?