an older sister. a younger sister. and a whole set of problems.
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❝she was the sun... and she was about to burn out❞
mariah was more social than her older sister. she was well-liked, vibrant, outgoing and was the class clown. her antics spoke of h...
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I wasn't the one she confided in.
Then again, I never took it personally; she never confided in anyone. Not unless it was an accidental confession or a blurted out statement, said in a moment of anger or complacency.
I wasn't the one she yelled at.
Then again, we were too skilled at silent jabs and subtle remarks that yelling was unnecessary. She hurt me more than words can say, and by allowing the distance to grow, I hurt her more than I knew.
I wasn't the one she looked up to.
Then again, maybe she looked up to me too much. Maybe she forgot to see my darkness, she only envied my light. She didn't know my inner thoughts, my inner sins; she coveted my outward smiles and silence.
I wasn't the one she hated.
Then again, her love was as constant as a wave in the sea. It was there, crashing on the beach in a loud roar. It was gone, dragged inside and locked away amongst the other waves of salt water and emotion.
I wasn't the one who knew.
Then again, I didn't know that much. I had isolated myself, she had pushed me away, and the next thing I knew, it was too late. She was there, I was here, and there was a gaping distance between us.
