I am still a fool.

My brother is making coffee, at 10:30pm. It is to keep his hands busy. His posture tenses with the pretense of indifference, and he takes a breath, suddenly changing the air of our banter.

"Nuna," he starts, the way he does all dialogue with me (it means 'older sister'). He stumbles and stalls, using a lot of filler words and laughing. Trying to keep it light. Trying to prep himself, or me. I know he is embarrassed and uncertain; it sounds like when I read poems to friends.

"What's up," I respond, raising my brows. I'm scarfing down a hurried, tasteless dinner after coming home from class. He's still stammering, but eventually he runs out of things to do. The coffee is brewing. He's tapping his fingers. I tell him to get to the point.

He mentions his ex-girlfriend, and I know where this conversation is going. He's been bouncing around the house, traveling hours out of his way just to catch movies, suddenly determined to get back on track with work, school, physical fitness. Still, I leave my face open and curious. He eases into his discomfort.

A little backstory: They dated briefly. He genuinely liked her, possibly even loved her. She acted in ways that drove him nearly crazy with insecurity. I pointed out the obvious signs, but I didn't expect him to listen. Naturally, she played him.

I mean, what can I say. They're kids. She's younger than he is, and attractive girls in big urban cities are a different kind of "young" than other young are. Too old for her age, you dig?

Only recently I learned the value in keeping my mouth shut, and I learned to weigh situations that called for words better. Only recently I realized how damaging and useless pointing out flaws can be. Only recently I began practicing neutrality in situations where people come to me for advice, especially when it comes to issues pertaining to love. How can you truly experience the falling into (and out of) Love, if you simply monkeybarred on people's advice? This was not the time for it, so I nodded, and merely listened.

Basically, after he convinced himself he was over her and spent all that time healing, they start hanging out again. They go to movies, they enjoy the shit out of each other's company, they laugh and they talk on the phone. And this time, it's her calling him. Her seeking him. Everybody loves to be pursued by the one they really want.

He's frustrated because he's getting hopeful again, and that should I? Should I not? is returning. He lists the details of their days together as if it was evidence to a better second chance. I nod, even though every part of me wants to warn him. That it sounds like she hasn't changed at all. I see where the loopholes are.

And then, I cringe inwardly. Oh, God. Oh God! It all sounds so familiar. Agh! AGH!

I recognize the carefully controlled look on my face as that of my friends when they listen to me speak about Kryptonite. I don't realize how unnecessary all my details are. I could talk about him for days. I mention every nuance of his actions as if breaking them down would stretch them out longer, give them more meaning. I think about the judgments that scroll between my ears as I watch my brother rant about JM, and I mentally kick myself in the neck.

Word, I recently spent an hour -- my entire lunch break! -- detailing a single weekend with Kryptonite. A total of 5 or 6 hours with him combined, turned into a one-sided musing that went on for much too long. And though all the signs are there, and obvious, the way my heart blushes makes mountains out of garbage piles. And it took my brother to show me that.

"So... what should I do?" He asks me, for the second time.

I blink. I don't want to tell him anything. People like us have to find out for ourselves; and as much as I want to protect him, my advice will do nothing. The Bitionists are also an indulgent blood; we disregard logic often to seek what we want deep down inside. No matter how bad that may be for our well-being.

"You're just gonna have to run with it," I say, thinking about my recent settling into contentment away from my K. It took another last try, and another period of separation, for me to realize just how okay I was without his validation. He has to get there on his own.

I mentally thank my good friends for letting me come to my own conclusions, no matter how obvious the signs were. Thank you for your patience and the hold you had on your tongue. For letting me hope as hard as I had to. For knowing and accepting that tomorrow, no matter how much progress I make, I'll probably be sending yet another frustrated email that's three paragraphs too long and four signs of affections too short, and for responding with nothing but a hug and a Good Luck.

Haha. I am ridiculous. And he is following in my footsteps. *Messes up his hair*