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I have three brothers. The world’s three best brothers. I consider them my most important rolemodels, and they have, in more ways than they can imagine, made me who I am today.

We don’t spend enough time together, it is neither of ours fault, we all have busy lives. Still, I never feel left out, and I never feel forgotten. They’re all there for me when I need them to. I know I mean a lot to them. One brother shows me with his eyes. His bad conscience for not being able to make me the top priority in his life. He would make every person in his life his main priority if he could. Still, he’s always there. One snap with my fingers and he’s there to help, or there to talk, or just to listen. Another stops his crazy schedule for me. His life comes to a halt, and a few hours it’s like nothing else matters, for the both of us. He guides and advices, but never judges. He’s comforting and safe. The third lives his life to the max. Everything he does he does using all of himself. I know I sometimes make him feel bad for not seeing me as often as he could. I am sorry for that, and I know it is just as much my responsibility. I know he needs time to breath. I know he will be there when I need him, and when he is he is here one hundred percent. So many times has he come out of his comfort sone to help me out. He never says no when the need is great.

One does everything he can to ease life for those around him. One does not know what harm and evil is. One can make friends with anyone in the world. One is as creative as creative gets. One can make you laugh no matter how deep the pain. One is a safe haven no matter what life throws your way. They are brilliant, each and every one of them. And so successful in the things they do. So often do I feel like I fail myself, but only because I try to measure up to the great standards they set. I am so proud of them. Their abilities combined would make the perfect person, but perfection is over rated, instead they are three of the most amazing men I have ever met.


Image from here