It hurts when you tell me you don’t care whether I bought you a birthday present or not,
But it means a lot to me,
I care,
Mostly because I don’t know many more birthdays you will be around for.

Hey sister,

Does it make me an evil person when I screamed at you on the phone today a little over a week ago because again, for the third time in the past year you’ve called me yet again to tell me ‘he broke up with you’? That he found some problem with you. That he didn’t mean anything nice he ever said to you.

That you are broken.
That you are hopeless.
That you can’t promise me that you won’t hurt yourself. Again.
That you can’t promise me that I can count on calling you the next day (or even the next hour) and expect you to be there to answer the phone.

Does it make me an evil person to actually have thought in my head that maybe grieving for your death would actually be better than this hell you are putting me through every single day?

I thought I could do it too.
Thought I had the courage to tell you, ‘No. I can’t help you call him.‘

But then you hung up on me,
stopped answering my calls,
stopped answering my text messages.

And the pain didn’t stop.
The sorrow grew deeper.
The tears, heavier.

I don’t want you to leave me.
But I’m out of ways to tell you how much I love you,
I’m out of ways to tell you to stay strong for me,
because every time – it doesn’t seem like I matter.

And the pain Never. Stops.