I am tired of a lot of a lot of things, but you are not one of them.
I remember seeing you every single day, watching you pore over textbooks and text your friends on that old flip phone.
I remember laughing so hard when I bumped into you with my bike -- right into your butt -- and writing the dumbest apology letter in response; I wonder if you still have it.
I remember flipping through the pages of your high school journals when I entered high school myself, curiously wondering what it was like for you all those years ago.
I remember all the promises you made as you held me in your arms, so ready to stay and protect us, even when you couldn’t.
I remember the first time you came home, with your new piercings and new friends and new smile. I remember how odd it seemed, seeing this freer, calmer version of you. You had made yourself anew, found yourself in another city, another world, another home.
And where was I? I stayed behind, stuck behind in our past, struggling to move on.
With each year you visited less and less, and I know the weeks and months between the days I see you each time will only stretch and grow.
Yet somehow, you are closer to my heart than ever, and the only love that I can promise will remain by my side no matter how cold or coarse or anxious I become. You are the only promise I can ever make, because you have seen me at my most callous, bitter, vilifying, and crude, and you still continue to meet me halfway, teach me about the world, and give me reason to change.
I can’t change what has passed, but I want you to know that I wish I had loved you more, that I wish I had loved you sooner.
Thanks for dealing with me all along,
Your lil sis
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