1987

Nothing but love and sunshine.
Happy Birthday to my little brother. Happy Birthday, kid.
I'm at a loss with Geoff. I love him, of course, that goes without saying. He's my little bro, my little hero, my buddy growing up and the friend I knew I'd always have. And now I'm so sad for him. I'm sad because I see him throwing his life away and I don't know if he'll be able to get it back. It's hard to watch him turn into this kid I don't even recognize. I just want to be able to help him, even though I know for this, he has to help himself. If he really wants to change, he has to make that decision on his own.
I don't know if he even wants to change.
It feels like he's the water circling the drain, and it's starting to go down much faster. Little tornados. And the momentum is growing so fast that it's just this second--it's too late. And I don't want to force my life, my beliefs on him. I want to be there for him, and help him, and I don't know what to do.
And I'm selfish. I'm sad for me. Because I've lost my little brother. I've lost my little hero, my little buddy. I want to help him find his path and help him be healthy and happy--in his own way. But I don't want him to self destruct. I don't want him to chose to medicate himself. Because I've seen how that works--it doesn't.
So little brother...today I wish you nothing but love and sunshine. I wish you your own happiness and safety and love.
I wish you love and sunshine, today, and always.