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Sometimes we look in all the wrong places and to all the wrong people to get the support we need. It's taken me a while to learn that friendship can be found closer than you think, even in your own home. Growing up, I knew I always had a great friend in my brother. Besides the biological connection we share, there's the common ground and shared history that has kept my brother and me bonded.

My brother and I have an ongoing tradition of never letting the other forget the mishaps that "accidentally" occurred between us during our childhood. To be fair, my "accidents" sometimes involved "accidentally" chasing him around the house with a golf club in my hand, swinging wildly. I preferred the irons (my favorite being the three-iron because you get a fuller swing with a longer club). Although my older brother patented the torturous technique of pinning my arms down with his knees, sitting on my stomach while I was on my back and almost letting his "spittle" drop on my face. If you don't know what spittle is, consider yourself lucky. My favorite memory is the time my brother threw a dart at the dartboard while I happened to be standing in front of it collecting the darts. I remember how he stood there, half-horrified, half-smiling, watching the dart hang from my back, drooping in my bare skin.

He also threw a truck at my knees when I was about four years old. To make matters worse, my dad decided he would make it a Kodak moment. Instead of making sure my brother stopped what he was doing, he pulled out the camera and took a picture. Neither of them feels any shame forthis. They framed the picture and it hung in our kitchen for my entire childhood.

Another time that sticks in my mind is both painful and comforting. One night we were staying at my aunt's house and I was really sad about something. I just remember crying and crying in my brother's arms when we were trying to go to bed. I don't even remember what I was so sad about; the important thing is that I have this memory of knowing he was there for me and feeling comforted by him. In looking back, it is nice to know that two brothers could share that kind of emotion with each other without even thinking about it. Society tells guys not to show emotion, especially with each other, but that didn't stop us. We were so innocent. I love that memory.

We had—and still have—a strong bond. Through the years I probably went to my brother too few times when I was having trouble. I wish I had gone to him more often because he has a sweet and caring soul. The times I did confide in him felt very good. My pain or heartache never needed a context or an explanation. That is a feeling I experience so rarely in my life these days—feeling completely understood without even speaking. More often than not, my path feels lonely. But I've realized that discovering my own aloneness is even more of a reason to cherish a sibling I can relate to and confide in. Sometimes that is all one has, and it can be a most precious and enduring resource.

(c)2000. All rights reserved. Reprinted from Teen Love^®: On Friendship by Kim Kirberger. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the written permission of the publisher. Publisher: Health Communications, Inc., 3201 SW 15th Street, Deerfield Beach, FL 33442.