incoherent ramblings from someone who may or may not be completely sane

A Letter To You

This.

This is a letter to you.

And you know exactly who you are.

I was originally going to start with a greeting, but upon thinking it through further, I'm not sure if you deserve even that. I'm only here because I wanted you to know a few things.

I don't know how long you've been gone, but I remember when you left.

You'd think that knowing the latter would make it possible to work out how long it's been since you left, but no. Not in this case.

Because I don't know when it was that you got lost; you never told me anything.

I'll have you know that I kept up the drawing for four years after you left because you told me you liked my art. I think maybe my body subconsciously believed that you might come back if I kept it going.

And I think that's why I picked up the guitar a few months ago instead.

For whatever reason you see fit, no amount of drawings could convince you to come back to me.

It may or may not come as a shock to you, but your mother told me that she wouldn't be surprised if I killed myself.

She also told your brother that he's going to end up just like you.

And the thing is, you've been gone for so long that I have no idea how you would react to something like that.

I fell apart when you left.

Maybe not because I missed you as much, but because I needed to teach myself things you never could.

Because at the end of the day, the only thing you taught me is useless to everything I do from now on.

You taught me to be a little sister.

Now that you're gone, I have no need for that skill and no need to thank you for what you've passed down to me.

What good did that serve me when I had to hold your father while he cried out for you in the front seat of his car when he shouldn't have even been crying in the first fucking place.

I'll also have you know that after you left, I tried to find you. But in trying to find you, the only thing I found is that I'm not weak enough to succumb to what you did.

After all, the shirt tied around my neck was only as tight as your arms were around my body when you used to hold me; tight enough to be felt but not tight enough to affect me.

And I know that you can still see me bleed from wherever you are, no matter how far away that might be.

Sometimes I like to think that maybe you wouldn't have had to get out if you had've just let me in.

But when it comes to the why, I'll never know for sure. You felt it fit to leave me with not only the emptiness of the loss of your presence, but also all the 'maybe's and the 'what if's.

And for that, I'll never thank you.

I would never thank you for leaving me with the why and never the answer.

I would never thank you for the giant hole you punched into my life the moment you made that decision.

And despite the animosity I've put into this letter for you, my memories of you are actually good. That's why it kills me. You could have been something great, somebody that people look up too. Instead, you will forever live on in people's mind as selfish.

And last, but certainly not least; I'd like for you to know that through setting the example you did, I tried many times to follow in your footsteps.

Out of all the questions I have, the only one I want an answer to is if you know that through killing yourself; you killed me.

-Ally