Nate Heilman

My sister and I’s favorite restraunt that I forced her to drive me to.

The fear of something you have already lost. This happens many times when you have lost something so devastating you can’t comprehend, and then you forget about it like it never mattered to you. 

My brother and sister have both moved out of the house to leave me all alone with my thoughts and no rides to Culvers. It does have its perks, though; I have my brother’s room now, which is three times bigger than my old room. I don’t even have to share a bathroom with them anymore, so I don’t get yelled at for taking a shower too long.

There are also the cons. Like nobody to relate to, no one to play video games with in person, and no free feedback for my projects in school, no matter how unwilling their help is. I miss the people I used to love and look up to, and I talk about them like they have passed away, and they are still one phone call away, one face time, but it wouldn’t be the same. 

Every day that passes is a day where I can’t show them how much I have grown, what I have learned, show them the new people I have met, and my accomplishments. I stand with the endless thought that I could see them, but I have made the decision not to. A selfish decision that one day I can not reverse. I am guilty of the thought that I have changed because the other people who have been there for me have not seen it. I am afraid I am losing myself in my own life, losing control of something that I can control.

I miss them both. My brother is the one that I could ask questions to, and he can appreciate the sports aspect of my life because he has one of his own. I look up to him often. He is a hard worker, a person who can put his head down and work through anything with anyone. He has played through adversity and worked through adversity. He has been to Arizona for his job with the Cincinnati Reds, and in two days, he traveled to Ohio for the first game without his car. 

My sister, on the other hand, is the one I am much closer to. She is closer to me, and I have been coherent enough to remember the better moments with her. Yes, she is the one who drove me to Culvers, but it was to give her company from people that she knows and doesn’t want to talk to. Believe it or not, she was the one who played video games with me. We played Lego Star Wars in my basement for hours on end because it’s a tradition that has been passed down. My brother used to play with her and yell at her, and now she yells at me (heartbreaking, I know). She has always been there for me. She has shown me what it’s like to respect people even though they don’t necessarily respect you. I have learned so much from my sister, and I will keep learning. 

I may have lost them, but I will not lose the memories they have given me. I might just have something in my life that I can control, and it is the love I have for my family members. It is hard not to get mixed up in life, but when you have something so concrete that you can rely on, you can’t get swept away that easily. One day, I am afraid of losing them. In fact I am terrified, but knowing the fact that we are connected now is good enough for me.