I drove home in tears last night.
It was nearing 2 AM, and I was heading home from making an emergency trip to visit my little sister. She needed me, you see, and I couldn’t let her down. As I spoke to my fiance through the radio speakers, he attempting to keep me awake until I got home to him, I began to break down.
I have done horrible things; I have deeply hurt the ones that I most love. I have knowingly and willfully taken knives and stabbed them into the hearts of my most beloved, and I will never be able to make up for it.
The end of my 20th year was when I dropped lower than I ever had before; I sank into the abyss of nightmares and had not the strength, the will, nor the ability to fight it. I tread the murky waters so hard at first, so hard, and then not at all. During this time, I placed a magnificent and devastating burden onto my sister. Eight years younger than me, I began using her as my outlet. I would call in the middle of the night bawling and screaming, telling her that I couldn’t go on with life, and then I would hang up and not call again for days or even months. You need to properly understand what this girl means to me; she is my everything, my soul mate, the brightest star in my sky; she holds infinite space in my heart, and although we are separated by almost a decade, we have always remained best friends. Age did not matter … but it should have. I sunk so far down that I began focusing only on the bad. I saw her receiving treatment and praise from the same family that abandoned and hurt me; I saw her vast, unlimited talents and success at everything she tried … while I had none and only failures; I saw the unsurpassed beauty that she had both inside and out, so effortlessly, and I saw the ugliness that was me. I was jealous, I was full of envy, and I allowed it to govern the way that I treated her.
It is said that we most take for granted & hurt those we love. And it is true. My little sister was my everything, and yet, I treated her worse than the pebble in my shoe. I placed responsibility on her that should have never been hers; she had to keep me alive, she had to be all things, she had to give her all to me. At the tender age of 12, she took on a role that is not even meant for gods. And she didn’t complained, didn’t fight, she only gave.
She gave. And she gave.
And I took. And I took. And I took. And I took.
She had idolized me for so long, and I let her down.
A couple times, she spoke up for herself. She found the will to tell me how unfairly and unjustly I was treating her; that I was stealing from her and taking from her and breaking her. And I listened, I swear that I listened, but I didn’t fix myself fast enough.
Now, I must live with the guilt. I must live with the fact that bawling on the 2 AM drive home, and for hours after that while lying in bed, is what I deserve. I cannot ever forgive myself; I cannot ever let myself forget. I failed her and I must spend the rest of my life trying to make up for even a fraction of it. And I accept this because I must.
I was hurting, yes. I was suffering, yes. But there is no excuse for the way that I treated her; the way that I melted onto her, offering her no escape. And now, as I drop everything to drive down and be by her side, I can only return home feeling that I did not do enough. It will never be enough; it will always be less than she deserves.
But I will keep trying. I will keep trying to be better for her.