No, it's not a postcard

Email from the Eldest Bro today. This is a 15 minute walk from his flat. Why didn't I pick Australia?
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Last night I had a dream about that guy. That one, the one I’m not supposed to be thinking about. It was so vivid and all I remembered feeling was this helpless rage. The kind where you’re not sure if you’re supposed to be mad, or if you’re even allowed to be. But you are, so you have no choice but to bottle it up, let the pressure build inside your temples until you can feel your head swell. But it’s still all you can think, feel, taste. The rage is screaming in your ears. And despite this misery, a sad, quiet part of me was just drowning in relief to finally see him again.

-L