They Always Say...

I remember the last few days before my brother left on his mission to England for two years. I remember how shattered I felt, how alone and hurt I was. It seemed like I was losing everything then, and this was just the tip of the iceberg. I was losing my closest sibling and there was nothing I could do about it. Nothing but sit back and cry. Cry and wish and pray and hope that things would be the same when he came back.They weren't.
They always say that when missionaries return, they are better than before. That they are kinder, more fond of their families, fun loving, outgoing and just all around better. I'd been told that for so long that I had believed it and come to expect it out of mine. But when Jack came home, that's not what I got.
Instead of the best friend brother I had when he left and the entire time he was gone, I got a surly, sour, rude man who had the room next to mine. Always biting everyone's head off, claiming he's better than everyone, always thinking we are such horrible people.
And I couldn't help but wonder. What happened to him? Why did he turn out this way? Where was that fun loving brother I knew before? And where was the man everyone told me was going to return? So I asked him about it.
Now that he's told me though, I wish I'd never found out.