To lose a sibling is to lose the one person with whom one shares a lifelong bond that is meant to continue on into the future.” I understood this to mean that as a seventeen-year-old whose brother was most likely dead, I was acting t like a complete ass-hat for a good reason. Not only had my brother disappeared, but–and bear with me here–a part of my very being had gone with him. Stories about us could, from then on, be told from only one perspective. Memories could be told but not shared.
-John Croory Whaley
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