A Letter to My Sister (for when she turns 18)

Dear … No. No terms of endearment. It is time that you learnt that the world will not greet you like old friends. Sometimes, even you won’t.
Forgive me, I didn’t realise that you were me. I shouldn’t be surprised, for all that you’ve wanted to do since you were a little girl, was to emulate me. And I wouldn’t blame you because, for someone who has been putting up a front, for 27 years, that told you how in control of everything I was, I somehow seemed to be the perfect role model for you at facevalue.
Mum must have told you how life was perfect when I was 18. Sitting shotgun on a road trip with my bestfriends, looking around as the world flashed past in glorious colour outside my window. Clear nights with a warm breeze and an endless span of the night sky with infinite stars to surround me as my mind is filled with a torrent of memories and slow melodies.

I wish she had told you how complicated it all was. Like swallowing rusty nails and crawlin my way towards somethings didn’t even know I actually wanted. I wish I could rewire my brain to not care so much, to stop overthinking, to stop going a million miles an hour, to let me rest. Where they saw skin, I saw bruises. I wish she had told you that I was a friendless Friday evening, a burnt piece of something sweet. My smiles were empty and my chest was only a faint echo of a lost heartbeat.

Forgive me, I didn’t realise you were me.
I wrote imprecise ballads and weaved stars and tornadoes into my words, that’s what you heard from Dad.

I wish you had heard that I wanted to paint galaxies, worlds and storms, but I wasn’t that great with the manifestation of colours. I loved art but I could not create a masterpiece, nearly as alive and enrapturing. I was willing to break myself on the wheel for it. I wish you had heard how skeleton hands never did stop shaking me awake at 4 am. The past sinked into my veins. When 4 am tells you, “You can’t do this anymore,” you believe it. It was a well-rehearsed dream. Chaos and anarchy. Dark clouds and limitless bounds. Rage made my blood, and terror, my bones.

Forgive me, I didn’t realise you were me.
Today I see the stars in your eyes shine particularly bright – like fireworks and fireflies that, despite being vastly different, cause equal wonder when seen up close.

You may be told that you are meant for a clichè novel-esque life. But resist, little girl. There is something bold about being defiant. There is something about having soft petal skin and still showing sharp teeth. You have 27 bones in your hands, all structured beautifully to hold your world down for you. Remember, no one wearing a crown comes in the name of peace.
Now you know the colour, the texture, the softness of my mind; what my veins knot into; what the underside of my restricted, most private thoughts is like. Now, I believe is time to tell you what this inconsistent rambling has been building up to.
Let nothing, ever, stop you from going back to the start, to commence a new journey, to kickoff something that you and I will remember for the remainder of our breaths. Do not let the lazy days in and the feverish nights out faze you. And though the a heart will break as many times as it needs to, you will still find another reason to pull trust from the stars. There is no white knight, no dragon, no tower. If you’re waiting to be rescued, don’t. Become your own hero. And when the night exchanges your blanket with fear, I will pick you up, dust you off and walk with you to the sunrise.

Love,

The one who you wanted to be

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6 thoughts on “A Letter to My Sister (for when she turns 18)

  1. This is such a beautiful gesture and the words leave me stunned!
    “Today I see the stars in your eyes shine particularly bright – like fireworks and fireflies that, despite being vastly different, cause equal wonder when seen up close.”
    I absolutely love those quotes. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

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