A Final Word From The Girl Who Would Have Died For You


You are the one person I never thought that I would lose. You were the one person I went to for anything and everything, knowing you would always be just as honest with me. I laughed with you and cried with you, and I felt safe doing both. I looked up to you, and I loved you, and I would have done anything for you.

I had never had a friend whose heart was so close to my own before. It was so new and so nice to have you and I knew that I finally understood what I had been missing. Whatever you would do for me, I would do for you.

I would have, you know. Whatever you wanted or needed, I would have done it. I would have died for you. That’s what siblings do. I know we fought. That’s what siblings do, because that’s what we were. It used to make me laugh and chuckle as I explained to everyone else that yes, we were fighting, but we would overcome it. We would always overcome it. That’s what siblings do. Because in every dark hour or shining moment, you were my brother, which you took such care to remind me over, and over, and over.

It was you and me, forever. People used to say our names together, as one sentence. No spaces, no gaps, and isn’t funny now how there’s an ocean between us?

That was the explanation. Every time I was frustrated, or mad, or hurt, people would say, you’ll overcome it. You always do. You’re….

No, we’re not. Our names no longer fit together like smooth curves of puzzle pieces or Lego towers. We no longer go together like mac and cheese or peanut butter and jelly or a multitude of other sickening clichés.

I don’t disagree with what you say. I disagree with your front. You say it’s okay to be broken, but you would never dream of letting that escape. You’re smooth, no bumps or cracks. I used to admire it. You’re too smooth, too put-together, too made up. You poured yourself into a mold, then sanded and varnished yourself until all the bumps and scrapes and scars were nothing more than distant memories locked into a box and never heard from again. It’s not fair. It’s not real.

You’ve left me I would go to lengths you don’t even know to keep you safe and you’re a stranger now you don’t have to pretend around me and I’ve never felt so alone in my life I’m not going anywhere. Don’t tell me put your walls down and I can’t understand why you lied I’m the one person you never need to pretend around and all I can do is hope that maybe you meant it at some point whatever you would do for me, I would do for you but then I have to wonder why and when it all changed I think your flaws are beautiful.

I’m supposed to pass you on the sidewalk and pretend. I pretend you’re just another face, or pretend you don’t exist, or pretend I’m unaware of every piece of yourself I once knew so well. Keep my face as smooth and unyielding as your own mask as I pretend I don’t know what it feels like to stay up late and share secrets with you, or cry into your shoulder when you were the only person I had standing on my side. I’m supposed to greet you the same as I would any other casual acquaintance, pretending I didn’t once call you brother, pretending you didn’t once pluck out chords and scribble words with our friendship in mind. With me in mind.

You saved me. Your soft words pulled me down out of the dark cloud I was rising into and back onto the ground into the warm, safe home that you gave me. You saved me, and then you turned around and destroyed me. I feel the hole tearing open in my chest and I feel the clouds weighing down on the top of my head, and I have to ask myself how it is that the same person who put me back together was the one who ultimately tore me into the tiniest, most broken, fragile pieces.

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