• Six Weeks

    by  • November 28, 2016 • * Safe for Work *, To You • 0 Comments

    Why has it been so long?

    Who would’ve ever thought that I could be kept from my sisters for over forty days. That I’d be attending my forty seven year old cousin’s funeral. That I’d be walking into a restaurant with six of my family members instead of nine. That I’d be sitting at holiday dinner without them. That I’d be unable to feel from all the trauma. That my mother might as well have died and become someone I never knew.

    That I’d be in search of things to cause me any kind of distress so that I could feel everything that I’ve bottled up. Thinking long and hard about what I could’ve done, what I could’ve changed. Thinking endlessly about what my sisters did today. What they ate, what they thought about. How they’re doing in school, how they’re friends are. The funny thing that happened in class today. The things they tell others about that aren’t me.

    I would give anything to go back and pay more attention to every little word they said. Even when they were too small to even form complete sentences, their stories they told. The ones I didn’t always give my full attention to.

    Their sweet faces I used to tell goodnight to every night and good morning to every morning. How I did their hair. How I should’ve played with them every time they asked.

    For now I am alone, being kept from them, and I miss their laugh. Their jokes. Their compliments. How they looked up to me. And now I have disappeared and I can’t do anything to change anything. I am at a standstill and just waiting for something to break.

    I can’t come home, I have to wait for this to go through the courts, but I think of you both endlessly and increasingly every minute of every passing day. And as soon as you come back home to us, everything will be for the better.

    You can tell me all about everything I’ve missed, and I’ll hang on your every word.

    All my love,
    Your oldest sister who loves you more then anything

    Leave a Reply