Dear Bryan,
This is probably cheating because technically we're not officially related anymore, but you will always be my brother to me. (Besides, thinking about you as this random little boy I used to take baths with is just sketch.)
And this is probably pretty sketch too, but I've been searching for you. Either you're supremely good at making your Facebook private, or you don't have one. I check periodically in hopes that you suddenly appear, but it's pretty hard because I don't know if you still live where you lived when we were kids, or where (if?) you go to school.
We miss you a lot. Me and my mom especially, but the kids too. If I remember correctly, it was your mom that always tried to keep you from being too close to us, but now that we're both 20 and she's not really standing in your way anymore, I want you to know that wherever you are, you still have family in South Jersey, if you'll have us. We don't even have to do a big reunion if that would be weird after all these years, but every year on your birthday I wish I could call you. I would like to actually be able to someday.
The twizzler picture is still framed on the bookshelf in our living room. So is the picture we took in Central Park that year at Christmas. And I tear up a little bit every time I see the picture from Christmas when we were four playing with those boxing robot things that when you lose the head shoots up. I don't remember what they're called, but I'm sure you remember what I'm talking about.
It's really unfair that you can have been such a huge part of my childhood and now I have no idea where you are or what you're up to or what happened to you. I'm in Chicago right now; if by some twist of fate you're here too, and we walked passed each other on the busy streets downtown, would we even recognize each other? Has it been that long?
Regardless of marriages, divorces, and other strange familial happenings, you will never stop being important to me, or loved by me, and I will never stop trying to find you.
Love,
Maya
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