He is the warm jacket on a cold winter night walk. He is the mindless bantering. He is the bizarre video games, the ruthless murder of zombies in Call of Duty. He is the annoying interruptions right at the climax of a really good book. He is the empty pantry and countless cups lying around the house. He is the arguments at four am about existence of dragons. He is the same t-shirt for a week. He is the awful guitar notes and off-tune bathroom singing. He is the frustrated math problems and the intelligent scientific queries. He is the laughter when everything seems to be falling apart. He is the reason you know everything about Manchester United. He is the constant reminder to breathe easy. He is also the push to work harder. He is the chalked line in the car dividing the backseat into your area and my area. He is the coffee sessions and philosophical thoughts voiced at one am. He is the never ending Scrabble games. He is road trips spent playing “I Spy.” He is the lame knock-knock jokes. He is the childhood spent playing street Cricket. He is the first concert. He is the angry games of ‘Ludo.’ He is the Whataburger runs at two am. He is the best friend I could ever ask for. He is the brother I am too lucky to have.