Another year, Erin

My dearest sister,

I started this blog last week, a day before your birthday. I had a lot written in it about fate and friendship and god knows what else. I deleted every single word...and here is what I really want to say.

Happy belated birthday, my beautiful angel. I still remember the roses on your dining room table, when I arrived at your house for my 25th birthday. You remembered they were my favorite color. That whole trip I got lost in your eyes...We got lost in each others silence. You held me as I cried, harder than I ever had in front of anyone, while the rain beat against the windows outside...I will never be able to give you those moments you gave me for my birthday. What's more, you put aside your heart and your grief back then...to heal my wounds. I wish I could do the same for you. It's the very least I want to give you for this birthday.

I'm sitting in my empty, cold bed with only the glow of the laptop illuminating the room. I'm sure I don't have to say a word, but you have felt how I have been the last couple of weeks. You've done what you always do...give me space. Even though you know I am plugging holes left and right...but the water keeps flowing in...and I'm going under. Your best friend, one of them, and here I am selfishly wallowing in this indescribable pain and loneliness...I couldn't even send you a message. I loathe myself at the moment that much more. I am sorry, for everything that has happened. I'm sorry you loved for so many years, and waited patiently for him. I'm sorry you gave him everything...you and the girls both gave him so much love...but in the end, love isn't enough. You did one of the hardest things any human will ever have to endure: Look at your true love in the face, and close the door. Not because you didn't need love like air, or you became bored and wanted to move on. Not because you hadn't given it your all and would've given even more if it had just asked you to, with a look. You did it so you wouldn't die. Plain and simple. It was killing you. To see it get colder, distant...to see it slip away, being happy without you by its side. No words needed to be said. Don't we always know, my beauty? When we are being lied to? When details are being omitted? Don't we see beyond what's not being said or what is...and know it's bleeding in our arms and we can't save it? You did it to save yourself. And even though you are submerged in pain now...even though you may be dying without it, anyways...at least now it's your choice. You have the control. You're not putting your love and light out there, only to get a small fraction back. 

So if there's anything I can say right now, aside from quite possibly the saddest birthday blog post ever... is that I love you. That I'm sorry I haven't seen you in so long. I'm sorry I am not around much, even though you know in your heart...where I am currently. Like you said last time we spoke...it always seems like we are at the edge of a storm, waiting for it to hit. The taste of vomit in my mouth (I threw up my soul and 4 boots about 30 minutes ago) and the weight of the universe's heaviest silences crushing my chest are proof of this. Of the wait. But like you said...we hold on. For that tiny break...those three words...that insignificant loving gesture...and there it is. We are fine again. A lifetime of neglect and pain and sadness completely erased by a hit of our favorite drug: Love.

I hope for a better year. Love and light, sister. Let's get through winter in one piece. I hope your birthday was filled with family and friends. I hope our eyes meet again soon, and we can tell each other "I love you. I need you. I'm here." with a glance, once again.

Damaged, but eternally yours,

Shaunee