Happy birthday, Dean.
I'm writing this because I most likely won't see you tonight. So I'm just leaving it on your bed, and you can read it when you come in.
You're out somewhere, probably drinking and partying, and, hell, let's be realistic, banging some chicks.
And you'll tell me all about it tomorrow, I'm sure.
Can't wait to hear it.
But for now, I just want to say a few things.
Number one, I'm glad you're my brother. I know you don't feel like you set good examples for me, and, honestly, that's true sometimes. But I'm a big boy, and one thing you've definitely taught me is the difference between right and wrong. I'm just smart enough to choose right. Unlike you. Kidding, kidding. Anyway, I just want to make sure you know that not everything you've ever shown me has been bad for me. You practically raised me. And I think you should be proud of that. I think I turned out alright, considering. You've taught me everything I know, man. Taught me how to tie my shoes. Ride a bike. Gank a demon. You know. All the run-of-the-mill stuff kids these days should know. I'm glad it was you. Wouldn't have wanted to learn from anyone else.
Number two, I'm glad you're my best friend. Might not seem like saying much, since, you know, it's not like we could exactly have any other real friends if we wanted to, but just hear me out. I'm glad you talk to me about stuff like you do. And I'm glad I can do the same. I'm glad that every time we get a free minute, we can ride around in the Impala with nowhere to go, just enjoying each other's company. I'm glad I'm your whiny, bratty little brother and you still treat me like you never get tired of hanging out with me. Well, until tonight, anyway. Again, kidding. I know, I could've come if I wanted to. Just didn't want to crash the party. That's not really my scene.
Number three, I'm glad you accept me. Just... for who I am. It's always kind of pissed Dad off that I was into the whole education thing more than hunting, I guess, but not you. You support it, because you know it's what I want. What makes me happy. And you have no idea how much that means to me. No idea how it makes me feel when you just sit and listen to me for hours about pointless crap that couldn't possibly be less relevant to you or bore you more. Just because you know how excited I get talking about it all. So, thank you for that.
I know it might seem odd that I randomly decided to just go all chick-flick on you, dude, and I'm sorry. But it was just because it's your birthday, and it got me thinking about how every time you turn a year older, it seems like about five at once, because that's how fast you had to grow up to take care of me like you do. So I thought I'd just take a minute and tell you I appreciate it.
I love you, Dean.
Happy birthday.
Sam