It was a windy day in September and a man was talking to a boy.

“I’m going to tell you about two brothers.”

“OK.”

The older of the two went to live away from his hometown so that he could live life in the big city. College, girls, booze. The life he lived was wild and was determined to live high and die quick. Twenty-four-seven, all week and all month, he spent his life in the bright and crazy city for a couple of years. But he was unhappy.

The other brother stayed. The town they lived in was small and he liked that. Slow nights contemplating how people are, whether the can of Budlight in his hand would be the last one for the night, and if he would ever meet that girl again. He lived quietly. But he was unhappy.

Years passed, memories and regrets made, and somehow they both ended up in the same place they started, together. Two grown men, alone, and with equal amounts of wonder at what more they could do with their lives. On a nice night, near midsummer, they got to one of those deep talks. The kind that can last till’ four in the morning and makes you quiet the next day. The older one tried to teach the younger brother: "A city is a fake place, full of people judging and wanting. If you have what they want they admire you. If you don’t they despise you. Much better to be here" The younger brother disagreed; "At least in the city they want something, nobody seems to want anything here." The two argue over their choices, both sure they had the answer-

“Stop.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Why are you telling me this story Uncle?”

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“...Because I love you?”

“Kind of a weird way to show that you love someone.”

“...I’m weird.”

“Ok Uncle, just wanted to make sure you knew.”

“Ok”

They quarreled. The closer you are to someone, the easier it is to take for granted their feelings, and the older brother quickly left again, if he couldn’t find his peace at home, he would go make it somewhere else. The younger-

“Uncle.”

“Yes?”

“Is this about you and Dad?”

“Yes.”

“Ok Uncle, just wanted to make sure I knew.”

“Ok.”

The younger brother was *almost* immediately regretful. He tried to contact his brother, but he was gone, and back then, when someone wanted to be gone, they stayed gone. He found him again almost half a year later with a wife and an approach to the dream the older brother had always wished for. The younger brother meanwhile, had been to the city. With a Psychedelic shirt, ratty pants, and a pocket full of dope he was a proper city man. Unfortunately for both of them, pride ran in both them, and the younger brother was sent away.

Neither of them talked much after that. Oh, they went to the important things. Things like birthdays and holidays. But the relationship they had wasn’t there anymore. The younger brother stayed in the city, he had found a job, enough to support his wild parties that lasted late into the night. The older brother, your father, I suppose I should call him, he was happy. He had a family, a wife, you, and your brother. His dream was at home.

“The end.”

“Uncle!”

“What?”

“Weren’t you going to go somewhere with this? I thought you had some sort of meaning to this story, I-”

“There is meaning. I wanted to tell you about your father and me. We’ve only just met, and wanted to introduce myself better.”

“Uncle.”

“Yes?”

“This isn’t something I want to hear right now.”

“I know.”

“Then why?”

“I suppose it’s more for me than you.”

-------------------------

The boy, his nephew just stood. The man scratched his rough beard. Hardly his best look for a funeral. He felt at the pocket of his dress pants. “Should be enough to forget about today.” He walked away. And again he realized: He was unhappy.