There are a lot of things I can take, and a few that I can’t. What I can’t take is when my older brother, who’s everything that I want to be, starts losing faith in things. I saw that look in your eyes last night. I don’t ever want to see that look in your eyes again.

The speaker draws a boundary between ordinary hardship (“a lot of things I can take”) and a deeper, existential threat: witnessing a beloved role model lose faith. The “older brother” is idealized as a template for the speaker’s own aspirations, so his doubt destabilizes the speaker’s sense of meaning and safety. The line suggests that faith—whether in oneself, family, or a larger purpose—functions as emotional infrastructure; when it cracks in the person you most admire, it becomes intolerable. The plea not to see that look again is both protective and dependent: it asks the admired figure to remain strong so the speaker can remain hopeful.