You’d be 26 today.  A full year with the insurance discount… a three year old son… and no telling what kind of promotion from work.  Hell, you might even have gotten your own apartment by now – and what the hell would that look like?  I kid, but you were actually forming some decent taste there, once you took your Mariah Carey posters down.

But today, you’re not 26. 

You’re 21 and holding. 

4 years ago when the love of your life betrayed you like Judas, you only saw one way out.  Not a phone call to me to go grab a beer and talk shit about her.  Not a call to Mom or Dad for support and advice.  No calls to Ralph, Jason, Mark, Zach, Wendell or Carl – your “crew”.  Nope – Instead you saw one way out.  A trip to WalMart and 16 phone calls to Judas later and it was done.  No chance to say goodbye and no chance to change the path you headed down.

Angry?  You bet I am.  4 years later and I’m still pissed off at you.  Where’s Ainsley’s Uncle?  Where’s the one friend who wouldn’t sell me out?  Where’s the sanity the parentals got from ”their baby”?

Gone.

That’s where.

So while everyone else this year spends a birthday with their brother going out, downtown, grabbing dinner or even sending a lame ass text message – I’ll have a drink for you tonight at Baby A’s – your home away from home.  I’ll think about how we were actually growing closer to each other, and how you were the one friend I could always rely on.  But don’t worry – I’ll have one more and remind you how pissed off I am at you – because Cancer’s may forgive, but we never forget… and as your older brother, you get a guaranteed harder time from me.

Happy Birthday Allen.

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