Remember when you used to crawl into my bed because of the nightmares?
You always said it was the same thing.
But you said it wasn’t like there was anything to land on. Just falling. I didn’t understand, but you shook like a leaf. You said it wasn’t just the falling. It was the sinking feeling of losing everything. Me. Father. Mother. You were ready to cry whenever you had those nightmares.
So I let you sleep with me, under the moonlight, holding my hand.
Your eyes were wide and glossy, looking for something. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so afraid in my life. But I grinned just to make you feel better and said, “If you feel like you’re falling, just squeeze back. I’ll be here. I’ll always be here brother…”