It’s not really my place to broadcast my big brother’s affairs, but I feel compelled to say something.

My brother and his girlfriend of six years recently broke up. It’s a damn shame because the girl really grew on me, and I naturally assumed that this was the one. Maybe my brother did too. I’m not very sure of much because he and I don’t ever discuss our personal lives. We get along famously, have epic debates that digress into shouting matches punctuated by laughter, and we even rough house on occasion—but for some reason, we’ve never been very good about sharing our feelings. But even so…although I don’t know him as well as I should, I can plainly see that he’s hurting. Last night, he came by my room to talk. And though I had a dozen things to ask him, to say to him, I just stared at him stupidly and blundered through a few minutes of small talk before he resigned back to his own room. Don’t say a word, I already know. I let him down.

I love my brother. And trite as it is to say this, I really would take a bullet for him. But good intentions aren’t nearly enough. Real men don’t stand idly aside while the people they care about look for support. It’s time for me to set aside all that prideful, feeling-concealment bullshit and to act like a brother.