I got your letter today. I intend to let you read this entire blog once you come home. I also intend to handwrite you a letter tomorrow so you can know this sooner: my heart didn’t break because I thought I was losing you. My heart broke because I didn’t know how much you were always hurting. My heart continues to break because you don’t see how special you truly are. How loved you are. My heart breaks because you used to get high to feel less misery…..and now getting high has taken over your life. My heart breaks because getting high was the only thing that made you feel okay.
We constantly joke about our traumas, our mental health disorders, our issues. We always talk about them and how they alter our lives 24/7. Your letter said I help you accept your leg, and I am so happy that you feel like that. Sometimes, I question if I should’ve ever tried to push you to accept such a unique, personality-molding, life-changing, physical attribute. I often wonder if maybe by pushing you, I broke you. I hope not. Your trauma, your cancer, your surgery….it makes you even more amazing. You survived, A. Before this mess, you were a surviver. There is so much character, and wisdom that comes from that; I just wish you saw it the same way I do. I also wish you could see how much you have taught me. In so little time, you have helped me grow. You have truly shown me that unconventional things can be and are beautiful. You have taught me how to have a sister.
There is so much more I want to tell you, but Charlie just came looking for you and is doing that thing you hate, trying to cuddle. Ill save it for tomorrow. I love you.
Blaaaaaa 