My brother has always been my hero, and always will be. From the time we were just kids, Dylan was the one who took care of me, the one who protected me from the monsters living in my dreams, and the monsters that were real, like the one we called Daddy. He was the one who calmed my fears, cleaned cuts, bandaged scrapes.
He taught me how to color in the lines, how to play catch. He taught me all the things a boy needed to know. He dealt with my disabilities, was always patient through meltdowns, nightmares. He stayed up late, cleaning cuts from self harm, talking me out of hurting myself more than I had already managed.
He never judged more nor did he ever lose his patience with me. He had to be both brother and father figure when he was only a child, a child who grew up to fast to raise his younger brother, and for that reason, Dylan will always be my hero, and I'll always need my bubba.
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