You Just See Your Pain

You just wanna take a faster ride, lower lows, higher highs. But you’ll never find it.

I’m proud of myself. I woke up perfectly content. I have achieved what many haven’t. What she hasn’t.

It was all set up to be a pretty damn good day. Things are finally falling into place…and yet.

You. Fuck you. Who are you? I don’t even think you know yourself.

If you weren’t such a fucking child maybe we wouldn’t have to watch your every move. But you’re a pathetic little girl.

And so I watched. I looked to see if my worries were reality.

And boy did I see.

Describe myself in three words? Dedicated. Loyal. And. Critical.

But never judgmental. Unless, of course, it is deserved. 

You have provoked my judgment. You deserve it. Oh, and did I mention you’re everything I hate in humanity?

I pity insecurities. However, I abhor those who use whoring themselves as a way to deal with those insecurities. That’s called pathetic. 

I worry about those who are sad. However, I detest those who flip their sadness around into automatic anger.

I fear arrogance. However, I loathe those who look in the mirror with utter satisfaction and look upon others with twice the amount of morality with disgust.

I feel sorry for those who have had everything handed to them, for they will never know independence. However, I am repulsed by those who expect everything and whine when it is refused to them until the benefactor gives in.

That is you. In a cramped and molded nutshell.

I’ve known your stupidity. Suffered firsthand by your selfishness and lack of allegiance. But this is too far. This is too much. Watch what you write, sis. Some of your words can never be erased. Sure, go ahead and tear the pages up. Burn the scraps and toss them in gallons of water. But my mind can never be scrubbed clean. Nor can hers. 

And at last we’ve arrived at the reason why I look upon you with disgust. You have endangered her purity and innocence. You show her only what the slums of the world have to offer: alcohol, drugs, sex, dependence, and worthlessness. 

You think you’re pregnant? Fantastic. I am not surprised in the slightest. I could laugh. I am laughing. A humorless chuckle, I’ll give you that. You deserve it. I’ll pray to an absent deity if I have to. But, my friend, how could you? You thought you were pregnant once. You told me you thought you miscarried. Well, that’s all fine and dandy. Rotten luck. But it was your fault for bringing an innocent into the world and letting it die. I thought that made you less selfish. I thought that experience had made its mark.

I was wrong, apparently. Now, you’re so ready to kill one again. But no! That’s not enough. You say that if you are in fact pregnant, you will kill yourself. Of course. How logical. Kill another’s innocence. You’ve already killed mine. And hers. And the nameless infants. But not enough. You also need to take your selfishness a step further. Instead of facing your punishment, instead of being strong and facing the whispers, you remove yourself. You not only kill yourself and that poor child (the brave soul that decided it would teach you your millionth lesson), but you also kill my mother. My father. My only sister. Me. I cannot let that happen. My self preservation is too strong.

It makes me so mad I could spit. Of course! Leave it to you to find the most selfish solution possible. And then again, it could just be you being dramatic. Ha. That would be a first!

You make me sad. And you make me so fucking angry. But your words bounce off of my skin. They no longer leave marks. They are feather light and make me laugh. Unfortunately, they hurt those I love. And I won’t stand for that.

Because of you I am who I am. I am so fucking proud of myself. I am the exact opposite of you. And that is a beautiful thing to say.

Oh, and happy birthday, sis. Hope it’s your best one yet!