You don’t know how I mourned you. The loss of you, my sister. You cannot understand how I grieved.

I miss you. I miss loving you. I miss you being my friend and caring about me. I miss caring about you. Hating you is just so hard.

But there’s no other way to protect myself. There’s enough to hurt about. I just don’t need any new pain. If only you could understand how you hurt me. Actively. Wantonly. With freedom and abandon I thought was only possible in me, the rebellious one.

You are the rebel, the turncoat. You lashed out and ran, smiling and prosperous as you embraced the lie, and let me die with it. With him, with justice, all dead. There I went, gone to you and the world.  You stomped your boot on me.

Because he gratified himself on you, too. Your adoration and participation in the lie that was his life were the gratification of his need to shame me, to blame me. He didn’t just get off on me, he got off on people letting him get off on me.

Because you loved him more than me. You me and iloved his lies and denied my truth. It killedt killed us.

I mourned you.

Motherless daughter, sister-less friend, fatherless child, alone in the end…

Keep going, keep going sister. Find your way through. Be happy, be well in whatever you do. Don’t think about me, I’m already gone. It’s almost as if I was never at home.