Dear Sister,
I thought of writing you this because I don’t know any other way
to express myself truly except through written words. Probably it feels
tangible, and much more organized than how I shout or babble around like a
maniac kid.
In the memory of August
10, 2017. I must start saying I love you. I do. I would do anything for
you. I wish I am a better elder sister. I wish we had a better sister to sister
relationship. I wish I could tell you about my heartbreaks, and hookups, and
fears, and dreams. I wish I could let you know how it feels to be who I am, I
wish you understand. I know you love me, too. It would have been great to
discuss my heart with you. That’s what sisters are supposed to do.
You are my
hero. You always see the world as half full, and I thank you for that. I am
sorry for breaking your heart although you are always trying to be kind and
thoughtful. Every day I feel regret of not being able to give you back. I feel
terrible for being who I am around you. I am probably stupid or immature. Thank
you for teaching me how it feels to love someone beyond words, and thanks for
teaching me how to be kind and compassionate unconditionally properly.
Its not
that I don’t care. Of course I care. You are my sister, the one I know I can
lean on whenever I am in trouble. The one who can keep my secrets, hide my
nonsense from mum since we were kids and yet never complain about how a shitty
sister I am. This is the most thoughtful gift I ever had. Not because it’s a
Harry Potter book. Well, of course it means a lot. But also coming from you,
without a reason nor an occasion, is something that I probably kept crying
about since the day you gave it to me. You get almost one or two who get to
love you in the unconditional way you do, and I am so lucky to even have you in
my life, even luckier that you are more than just someone — you are
my sister.
I will
remember yesterday forever. Not only the fight and how much I probably cried
for letting you down, but that to remember that I am still loved. No matter
where I am, there is someone outside whose name is Raghda, loved me and will
keep loving me for who I am not for who she thinks or wants me to be. She never
judged me, and accepted me without conditions or strings attached.
Some people
mistake my silence for ignorance. I think I am the weakest of them all. I was
always someone who craved love. This is not to say that I accepted love
willingly — quite the opposite, in fact. If someone decided to like or even
love me, they would have to pass through a path of obstacles, being pushed
pulled and tested at every corner. Only then, upon arrival at the finish line,
would they gain my acceptance. I have lost friendships, and now I figured out I
may have lost you too. I am sorry for what happened, and I am sorry for letting
you down. I really am.
I am afraid
that I’ll wake up one morning and I won’t get to see you around. Who would
tease me or make me cry then? Don’t think that I don’t care. I always care. I
just don’t know how to show it. I just think that I have taken the easy way
out. I have been blocking people out of my life so I won’t be hurt in the way
mum hurt me too. I hope I change one day. I really do. Unless I can love
myself, I may never be able to allow others to love me the way you do.
I recently read this article about how does a daughter forgive her
mother for not protecting her. It is interesting how I could relate to some of
its details. It does not have to be the mother we are talking about. It could
be anyone including those very close ones you once trusted but failed to be
there when you needed them the most. The article gave me hope. Forgiving
someone for not being there is hard. I never knew how and when I could move on
and forgive others and myself until I decided a time ago to do so. I'd be lying
if I said I moved on, but at least I am trying. As they always say: “Believe
you can and you are halfway there.” :)
How can I be angry with many close ones? A question I failed to answer
precisely until now. You all argue that they did not do me any harm. I must
admit, you are right, but still they were not there either. They were the
circle of trust. They were supposed to love, embrace and protect me back then.
Maybe inaction doesn't have to be motivated by malice, but sometimes by
someone's own paralyzing fear -- their survival instinct. The more I am angry
with people, the more I realize I have a lot to change about myself.
It really is true: “Freedom is what we do with what’s been done to us.”
It is not the circumstances of our lives that matter. It is what we choose to
do with them. Yes, some journeys take you farther from where you come from, but
closer to where you belong. I know that I need to get my priorities straight.
But I hope you know that I love you. Forgive me! I am sorry that I failed you, and
kept failing you. But I promise I will never let you down from now on.
Sincerely,
The Family's Gryffindor Potterhead
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