Relatively Gotten.

Besides my best friend of 10 years, no one gets me like my brothers. As I sit here in my room, on yet another Friday night, listening to my Video Game Playlist on YouTube, humming along and smiling at memories those songs are linked to, I realize it.

In the 20 years of my being, my best friends are my brothers. And I would always pick hanging out with them over anyone else, because it’s so nice to hang out with people you don’t have to apologize to for being yourself.

Honestly, sometimes I think I’m too much of myself, if that makes any sense. And I drive people away, and come on too strong and basically all the issues that come with over-attachment that I dress up so well in the form of a shy, little, scared girl. But that’s all it is. I’m a scared girl, scared that no one will get me like my brothers do.

There’s this question I ask often. I ask those who I know very well if they love me. Not in any secret way or subtlety. Trust me, subtle is not my strong suit. I simply ask, “Do you love me?” But I realize now, I might be asking, do you get me. Do you understand what I’m saying. Do you know how weird I am, and more importantly do you accept it? Do you accept me, as I am?

Truth is, I don’t think anyone does. I have friends, and I know they love me and my company. I just don’t think they completely understand me, so I tend to tone it down. And it’s not like I’m mad because only my brothers get me. It’s not the world’s fault I’m different, and it’s not mine either, I mean, I’m pretty awesome (just kidding).

What I’m trying to say is I’m grateful that two of the most awesome people I’ve ever met turned out to be related to me, and that they love me and accept me for who I am, fully, with no judgement, and think I’m funny, creative and make me happy.

I just wish other people were like that too. I wish other people tried to get me.

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