Today, my little brother and I hung out. It was good fun. We spun about town in the sunshine taking in the marvellous views offered up by my midlands home town. He drives a little banger of a car. It’s a Ford Fiesta. He calls it the “Feshty”. We drove around my home town and listened to some bangin’ tunes. I felt cool. I felt as cool as someone (who doesn’t even hold a provisional licence) can possibly feel while being driven about by his younger brother in the Feshty. It was good craic.
He and I were close years ago, but grew apart as soon as he hit his teens. He strived for acceptance among his peers and struggled to get his head around the idea of having a gay brother. I disapproved of the means in which he attempted acceptance and wrestled with my own sexuality. Meanwhile, my parents decided to separate and eventually file for divorce. All that aside, today he and I are friends. It is one of the best feelings ever.