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The Belief in Warm Hands

Shocking. There were no other words to describe it other than that.

By Jordan EntoPublished 6 years ago 2 min read
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The Belief in Warm Hands.

Shocking. There were no other words to describe it other than that. Shocking.

The amount of joy he produced was palpable—overbearing even. His smile wasn’t hinging upon monetary gains and ephemeral pleasures. He was just love, looking to be loved.

Everyone surrounding was silent. He mesmerized them. He mesmerized me. It was baffling. As I looked out into the world I saw his pure antithesis. It was sullen. As if the love in the world was fatigued and yet, he was unfazed.

‘There’s a certain kind of courage in young eyes,' I thought. Enough so to make a recluse dauntless.

He cooed and the treacherous agendas of the world became irrelevant. He was simply love, looking to be loved.

Slowly, anxiety swathed over me.

‘It’s my job to keep this joy alive,’ I thought as I progressed into heaving. The jade of the world had clutched my heart with immense precision. My eyes grew vacant as I searched for the door.

‘I’m not ready. How can I be ready?’ I thought. ‘I’ve never done this before.’ I searched more strenuously.

I was comforted by a white coat with an alluring smile. "All is well," I heard. There were many words before and after that but they were dulled by my breaths. They didn’t matter. Those three were all I needed. The boy's radiance had again captured me and my fate was decided.

As the coat approached me, he was clutched in its arms. "This is your brother," I heard. A thunderous voice this time. My reservations had died. He was mine.

I welcomed him into my home and I declared definitive restrictions.

"This is my room, my blankie, my fish, my dog, and my snacks," I proclaimed.

The news was later revealed to me that ‘my’ had evolved into ‘our’. I was broken.

How could they do this to me? Nothing was mine anymore. ‘My’ popsicles had become ‘our’ popsicles; moreover ‘my’ lemon pudding had mysteriously become ‘his’ lemon pudding. Because it was soft they said.

I began to see his radiant glow and alluring smile as a vibrant arrogance and cunning snicker.

He knew this would happen he had executed a coup d’état flawlessly.

My perceptions of the world we would have together quickly buckled. This was war and I elegantly gave him the battle.

A decade forward and our squabbles have yet to desist. Above all things, he was my comrade, my enemy, yet my companion.

I had succeeded in preserving his joy. It was my daily task. He would bolt me with a water balloon and before anything else, our wars would commence. We were gleeful. We would attack each other violently with the widest smiles only to be chastised by them.

He was my brother. As I reminisce about our time together, my heart bleeds slowly. Six years forward and there are 1,700 miles between us now. I’m surrounded by millions of people without my only companion.

There are no coping methods that can satiate this kind of love. It was impossible. I had known the truest of energies. I was just love, looking for love.

I am just love, looking for love.

Thank you so much for reading all the way through, please follow my journey. It would be much appreciated and I will be sure to reciprocate as much as possible.

With Love,

Jordan.

**I plan to write an extension of this. Thank you so much again.

siblings
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About the Creator

Jordan Ento

I’m just a young man from California with a love for writing and a hunger for knowledge. I would like to make writing my full time career so any contributions are appreciated. Check back every Monday and Wednesday for a story. :)

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