You laughed the loudest when the room felt small, a spark that cut through every heavy day. You rose from places meant to make you fall, and still found gentle words along the way. You were the brother life forgot to send, the kind of soul who held the world with care. You cracked a joke before the cracks could bend, and hid your hurt behind the warmth you’d share. The cards you got were marked before the deal, yet somehow you kept playing with a grin. You stitched your wounds in ways you’d never reveal, and carried storms that thundered deep within. I think of you in moments sharp and still, the echoes of your footsteps in the hall. The way you’d turn a burden into will, and lift us up before you’d lift yourself at all. Now every memory flickers like a flame, a fragile light I cup within my hands. I whisper stories just to speak your name, and trace your shadow where the silence stands. You were the laughter when the night grew long, the steady heart that beat beside my own. And though the world feels tilted, slightly wrong, I carry you in places you have grown.