So bottled up inside of us it has been that when the flood gates are open the words can't pour out fast enough because we have to stay them one by one! And that's just not fair! It takes up too much room from discussion and the spilling of more ideas, and learning and thinking and writing it all, to have to say words one at a time.
If there could be something telepathic—like, something without so many words, and the eyes alight and you get all glorious when they understand and agree, and say, “Me too!” “How did you know that's what I was thinking!” And there's a knot that just wraps tighter between you. Ah, to dream.
You said stories are most powerful when they have characters who live for something other than themselves. And I love how we can talk and let the bastions of our quiet tumble down and we mean something when we say things—the things we say actually mean something! Oh, the glory!
And I love how we mean something to each other, something different between us, how you and I can speak something just once and understand it perfectly.
Things I love about my big brother:
- I loved how you told me in one conversation how to write for the world, and God dismissed all my fears because of the words He gave you, the wisdom He blessed you with.
- How we love stories and making them up, and telling each other these wonderful things we discovered, we thought of.
- How I can just ask you something and you can tell me what you think. How, though you don't show passion like I do, you smile and chuckle and understand anyway.
I figured it out.
We don't fear each other.
I don't judge you.
You don't judge me.
That's just the way it is.