Status Updates From P.S. I Miss You

Dear Cilla,

I know now that you'll never get these letters. I know they'll stay in this notebook forever. I know it will hurt every time I look at them, just like it hurts every time I write them.

Maybe these letters are my own form of prayer. Maybe "I miss you" is my amen.

For the first time in two months, I laughed.

It felt weird, like I was speaking a foreign language.

I liked it, but I felt guilty at the same time. Like by laughing I was betraying you. Like by smiling I was telling you I didn't care about you anymore.

I promise I'm still sad. Is it okay if I'm not sad all the time, though?

There's no band-aid big enough for this.

Dear Evie,

I mean it. Stop writing. Don't try to visit me. You need to learn to live without me.

Your sister,
Cilla

ARE YOU KIDDING.

P.S. I miss you.

P.P.S. Please write back. I need your help.