A Letter to My Dead Brother

"You told me you'd always be there beside me, tried and true."

Damn, I have been thinking a lot about you lately. It's been almost 11 whole years, and I recognize that I haven't once talked about you publicly. Every year, your birthday or death anniversary goes by, and I see people post about you and write about you—sadly, less and less with time—and I have never once participated. Why?

Do you remember when I was only four or five, and I was genuinely afraid of eating vegetables? I saw you in the living room, eating chips and salsa on the floor, and I stood there—suggestible. You suckered me into trying it, and immediately I was hooked. I don't remember what the salsa tasted like or what was on television, but that moment could never be overlooked. Rarely do I eat salsa without thinking about that day. Two brothers on the floor in the mid-afternoon; it seems like a screenplay.