It's wrong what they say about the past, I've learned, about how you can bury it. Those two years, the shortest, yet the longest two years of my life. The happiest, yet the most horrible. There are bad people in this world, and sometimes bad people stay bad. Sometimes you have to stand up to them. And sometimes you have to take off those red, love colored glasses to see the truth about those people. It all started in late December of 2008. I was sitting in my shitty dorm room, like usual, isolated as always. I didn't really like people, especially the ignorant people at Stanford. I was told by Bobby that Dean was going to come visit me, take a break from all the hunting for a bit. You can only imagine how happy I was, I hadn't seen him in over three years.
I went over to the refrigerator to make a sandwich, turkey and miracle whip was always my favorite. I sat down at one of the little chairs I had set up in the room, leisurely watching some television when Dean walked in. He was with Jo of course. I hadn't expected any less. The moment he walked in, my eyes lit up like stars, though, I was really good at hiding it. But as we talked, I noticed he was paying more attention to Jo than he did me which was a bit upsetting. It took me forever to eat my sandwich; I always felt self conscious about eating in front of people, especially those I love. And not the kind of love that families have for each other, I mean the other kind of love. The kind of love a person has for their spouse. Yes, I know, I'm a freak for having a thing for my brother.
He was staying with Ellen and Jo because he couldn't very well stay in my dorm, I would have gotten kicked out. But for a few days, he would come over, chat with me for a bit, and then leave, not showing any brotherly, or even friendly affection at all. That is until one day he came over and my roommate wasn't home. He came to my bed, where I was again, isolated. We sat and enjoyed each other's company while we watched SpongeBob, (he always had a thing for that show. I never understood it) talking about nothing that mattered as long as we were with one another. Eleven o'clock hit and he finally decided it was time to go. I had exams the next morning and needed my rest.
"Ok, bye." I said with a smile. "See you tomorrow after exams?" He smiled back,
"Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow." As we said our goodbyes, I was expecting him to leave, but he just sat there on my bed waiting, like he was contemplating something. So I went out on a limb, hoping what I was thinking was what he wanted as well.
"Is everything alright? You look like you're waiting on something." I asked, curiosity filling my voice.
"Yeah, I'm fine." He said with sincerity.
Here goes, "You know, if you wanted to kiss me, all you had to do was ask." At those words, he cupped my face behind my ear and kissed me; the most passionate kiss I had ever shared with anyone. With that kiss, I knew we had something. He left after we shared a few more loving kisses, and as I lay there, I couldn't wait to fall asleep, where dreams of him would fill my mind.