I always wanted to ask why you ate every sweet candy your friends gave to you even though you despised sugary things?
I wondered why you said you hated sappy rom com's but then watched Pretty in Pink every time I asked you too?
Did it really bother you that your next door neighbor played his music too loud in that way too small apartment complex, where the walls were as thin as paper, or did it bother you that your conscience could never let you do the same?
Would you come to hate your parents for forcing you to go into medical school even though you had a passion for DJ'ing? I know how much you loved to spend hours upon hours in my room after sundown using the mixer table I asked my parents to buy. Maybe thats why you choose psychology, it allowed you to express creative freedom in the medical field that is usually restricted.
What was it about your little sister that made you stand at the back of the auditorium, mirroring her moves throughout her first amateur competition as if you took the class yourself, all because she was nervous. I remember you asking me to help you with your flexibility so you could help her, since she would cry to you after class because she thought she wasn't good enough. I also remember how you begged your parents to take her out of the class because she was unhappy and only continued to dance because it would make your parents proud; yet they refused to see it, and would scold you for taking opportunities away from your sister. I remember you crying to me about how you hated the way they treated you, and her, and acted as if the hobbies they forced on you were going to benefit you in anyway.
Why did you take allow yourself to be swept away by everyone's problems, often allowing yourself to be their savior or knight in shinning honor, even if your plate was so full it was nearing collapsing.
Why were you so selfless? You never said no, you never fought back, you just took every shitty thing shoveled at you and did your best. But why didn't you ever put yourself first?
I suppose you did, eventually.
You first and last decision was your own.
You had decided you had enough, and you choose freedom.
I can't blame you for that, even though I want to look you in the eyes and yell at you. Scream about how unfair it is that you left me behind in this selfish fucking world. I want to shake some courage into you, and perhaps some answers. I want to help you with your sister and help you with your parents. I want to support you as you quit medical school and start mixing songs in Hollywood.
Im not able to, and I wish I was, but perhaps thats for the best, because that would be another example of you doing something somebody else wants. Even if it benefited you, it wouldn't be what you want, and I have no choice but to accept that.
I know how hard it is living for someone else's expectations, but I wish you didn't have to die for your own.
