Do it Again
"Seriously, Jim?" I asked, totally exasperated at my brother's attitude.
Normally, Jim Halpert is a standup guy. Yes, THAT Jim Halpert from the documentary about the glories of the paper we cut, tear, fold, and write upon, and the sales thereof.
Anyways, despite his wonderful qualities, this day, he was being a selfish monkey-butt.
"What?" he inquired, seeming shocked by the change in my countenance.
"What do you mean 'What'?!" I gaped. "Do you even remember how you pined after that girl for YEARS? You finally have the one thing you've dreamed of, and you're throwing it all away!"
"That girl" is Pam Beesly- yes, also from Dunder Mifflin. Stop pretending like you didn't watch the show. I adored my sister-in-law, and I knew Jim did, too. More than anything. But he didn't respond.
"Jim, you're my big brother, and I love you, but you're being an idiot," and with that, I went into my bedroom- Jim's old room- and shut the world out.
I laid there for a while, thinking on how I've always admired Jim, and how much I missed him when he moved out.
I was never as close with anyone like I had been with Jim. When I was little, he was my hero. He could do no wrong in my eyes. It hurt like heck to be so angry and disappointed with him.
Shortly after I stormed away, there was a knock at my door. "I don't have trip-wires you know," I called out. The door knob turned in response, revealing Jim standing there like a puppy with his tail between his legs.
"May I sit?" he motioned to the empty space at the edge of my bed.
"Well, I might kick you, so no guarantees concerning safety," I replied, drawing my knees closer to my chest.
He sat down gingerly. "Look," he sighed. "I know you're mad, and I'm sorry, kid. I don't know what else to say."
"You do realize that I am almost 20 years old right?" I sat upright. "I think that's part of your problem. You came home to vent and forget about your problems- maybe even be comforted. You didn't expect to get a kick in the pants from your little sister, who is no longer little with the exception of some height challenges thanks to her freakishly tall older brother who stole all the tall genes."
He looked at the floor. "You're right."
I stopped my rant short. "I'm sorry, what?"
"You're right," he repeated, tears forming in his big blue eyes. "I made a mess of everything. I just- don't know how to fix it."
Suddenly, our roles were reversed. I wrapped my arms around my crying, brokenhearted brother. "Hey," I began in a hushed tone. "Do you remember how devastated I was when I finally convinced Mom and Dad to buy me a new bike without training wheels, and I crashed into that light pole and dented my handlebars?"
He laughed softly through his tears. "You thought you'd never learn to ride."
"Exactly," I nodded, letting him go and looking him in the eye. "You found me crying and told me that in all the chaos of my accident, I didn't realize that I was riding just fine. I had wobbled and lost my confidence- lost sight of my goal. That was why I fell … You picked me up, and I pointed out how I screwed up my handlebars. And you said-"
"I said that I thought it looked cooler that way - edgy and sporty," he smiled, cheeks glistening with liquid mourning.
"I was afraid to ride again for fear of failing, and you reminded me that I had done it once before, so all I had to do was do it again … You won her over before, Jim," I locked eyes with him. "All you have to do is do it again."
Jim grabbed me into a bear hug. "When did you get so old and wise?"
"When I listened to my sibling," I grabbed his shoulders and shook him lightly.
"So what you're saying is that I'm really the reason you're smart, so I didn't actually need your help?" he teased.
"No, because you often make the mistake of not taking your own advice, so you need an extra mouth and a different voice to get through that thick head of yours," I shoved him playfully. "I think it's the hair."
He was finally able to let out a real, hearty laugh. "Thank you," he smiled down at me.
"Thank yourself, I learned from the best," I smirked.
"Sorry, that position has always been taken by you," he bowed.
"Oh brother," I rolled my eyes.
"Oh, sister!" he repeated in mock dramatics.
"Get out!" I threw the nearest pillow at him, laughing despite myself.
"Love you, too!" he took the pillow and walked out of my room.
"Hey!" I yelled. "You didn't close my door!"
"I know!" he shouted back.
"Jerk," I whispered with a smile on my face.