Sister - The best friend god gifts us even before we have a chance to ask for one.
That is how you came into my life. Without my asking.
And that is how you made all the difference in my life.
I don't have memories of you teaching me to ride a bicycle or having pillow fights.
I don't remember us making plans for a lazy weekend afternoon or discussing what clothes to exchange.
You didn't teach me to make my hair or do my makeup.
We never discussed our favorite authors or heroes.
Mom didn't teach us her secret recipes.
We didn't share fancy stilettos or branded jeans.
You didn't teach me how to paint my nails in bright colors.
We didn't hold dreamcatchers over the beds or enjoy ice-creams at midnight.
You weren't around for any of that.
But you were there when I got my life smashed the first time around. You held me while I let the tears flow uncontrollably. You gave me the strength to get back on my feet and move on. To let the past behind me and to look forward to a future. You made me believe that there are still good people out there in the world - Good people who can see and understand pain. Good people who are not out to take a broken person and break her more.
But most importantly you taught me to believe in myself. To know that no matter what happened, it is not a reflection of my personality or character.
That is how you came into my life. Without my asking.
And that is how you made all the difference in my life.
I don't have memories of you teaching me to ride a bicycle or having pillow fights.
I don't remember us making plans for a lazy weekend afternoon or discussing what clothes to exchange.
You didn't teach me to make my hair or do my makeup.
We never discussed our favorite authors or heroes.
Mom didn't teach us her secret recipes.
We didn't share fancy stilettos or branded jeans.
You didn't teach me how to paint my nails in bright colors.
We didn't hold dreamcatchers over the beds or enjoy ice-creams at midnight.
You weren't around for any of that.
But you were there when I got my life smashed the first time around. You held me while I let the tears flow uncontrollably. You gave me the strength to get back on my feet and move on. To let the past behind me and to look forward to a future. You made me believe that there are still good people out there in the world - Good people who can see and understand pain. Good people who are not out to take a broken person and break her more.
But most importantly you taught me to believe in myself. To know that no matter what happened, it is not a reflection of my personality or character.
You made me strong to say what I believe and do what I say. You inspired me to have a roof over my head and the ground beneath my feet. You made me believe that there is always light at the end of the tunnel. That my dreams will get wings again.
You with your fancy musings - 'Experiences are the best lessons you can gift yourself. Learn and move on. If you don't find the right person, at least you will have figured out who is wrong for you'.
And now I come to you - Broken for the second time. Can you heal me again? My dear sister - Say you can heal me again. Just this one last time. Once more.
Because I stand in front of you with your worst fear. Unlike the first time, I don't hate just the world now. I hate myself now. I hate myself for letting my guard down. For letting trust take over me. Over my better sense which should have prevailed. For having been a fool again. A fool to just be tread over. A fool to be silenced again.
You with your fancy musings again - 'Once was a mistake. Twice is stupidity'.
You refused to let go of my hand. Again. But this time you did it with an uncertainty which scared me even more. You didn't shell out any optimism. You merely listened. You didn't even shed a tear. And I couldn't stop mine.
For all the things I don't remember, I do remember how you always cried with me even when I tried to be brave.
To not see you do that now breaks my heart more. Have I failed you more than you fathomed?
Your still cold hands in my palms drains every ounce of my life out of me. Who is going to heal me now?
My need to be held overwhelms me. One last time. By you. To have you tell me that I will tide over this too. And maybe we can finally get around to getting these men out of our lives and start over our childhood again. To make all those memories we didn't have.
But you just lay there. Draped from neck to toe in the color you detested much. White.
I know you are not liking it there. This I know about you.
God didn't ask me before sending you to me. And now, he didn't ask me before taking you away from me either - When I needed you the most.
You with your fancy musings - 'Experiences are the best lessons you can gift yourself. Learn and move on. If you don't find the right person, at least you will have figured out who is wrong for you'.
And now I come to you - Broken for the second time. Can you heal me again? My dear sister - Say you can heal me again. Just this one last time. Once more.
Because I stand in front of you with your worst fear. Unlike the first time, I don't hate just the world now. I hate myself now. I hate myself for letting my guard down. For letting trust take over me. Over my better sense which should have prevailed. For having been a fool again. A fool to just be tread over. A fool to be silenced again.
You with your fancy musings again - 'Once was a mistake. Twice is stupidity'.
You refused to let go of my hand. Again. But this time you did it with an uncertainty which scared me even more. You didn't shell out any optimism. You merely listened. You didn't even shed a tear. And I couldn't stop mine.
For all the things I don't remember, I do remember how you always cried with me even when I tried to be brave.
To not see you do that now breaks my heart more. Have I failed you more than you fathomed?
Your still cold hands in my palms drains every ounce of my life out of me. Who is going to heal me now?
My need to be held overwhelms me. One last time. By you. To have you tell me that I will tide over this too. And maybe we can finally get around to getting these men out of our lives and start over our childhood again. To make all those memories we didn't have.
But you just lay there. Draped from neck to toe in the color you detested much. White.
I know you are not liking it there. This I know about you.
God didn't ask me before sending you to me. And now, he didn't ask me before taking you away from me either - When I needed you the most.
I cannot wait to see you again. On the other side. Soon.
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