Saturday, August 18, 2007
I think I really should stop calling you that.
It's like every time someone at the College hears me calling you Kuya, they do a double-take, stop literally in their tracks and and ask in a very ridiculous manner why I call you "Kuya". And then I realize how retarded it kinda is calling someone you love "older brother".
But I can't help it. When I'm with you, I feel like I can be a kid, free to do what I want and I want to see you smile. You inspire something within me that I hardly feel important before and it's something called responsibility and maturity and patience and the will to actually shower once each and every day. Also you're the only one who can make me wear a skirt and feel good about wearing it.
See, you're everything a Kuya should be, except when I think about you I should be thrown to jail for being disgusting because of the thoughts I have for you, if you really were my Kuya in blood and flesh, are obviously incestuousness in nature. You do treat me like a little sister, that I have to admit but there is something to the way you secretly (me-and-you secret) whine every time you call and say that you have missed me. Plus your mouthed "I love you"-s every now and then when I catch you looking at me makes me pretty sure you're on the incestuous level too.
It's just that being the eldest, I've never had an older brother and I've always wished for one. And ever since I realized that my mom cannot give birth to 14 year old boy no matter how my 11-year-old-self prayed, I decided to start being the older brother I never had to my little brother.
Hence the dressing up like a boy and walking like a man for many more years after that.
Then you walked into my life with all your maturity and all your wisdom and patience and kindness and inspiring-ness to change and to face life as a different human being. Also I think my insanity totally complements your well... non-insanity.
I make you laugh, you make me responsible. I lift up your spirits, you make me patient. I let you discover new things like the taste of corn with ketchup, you show me that dressing and acting like a real girl once in a while can be enjoyable.
You and me, my babeh Kuya?
Lotsa love, Jana