Hindsight

                                                                                   

That's from July 21st.

That night... that's when we had our last fight.

It was late. I was packing. We both felt the tension, but we both refused to speak of it at the time. She was trying to help, but getting in the way.

I just wanted to be done... get my life packed away into those 4 crates... figure it out... lock it away so I wouldn't have to think about the coming Monday... the day I would stand in the airport and say goodbye to her for a year.

I don't remember anymore what finally made us crack. She screamed at me.. said I was heartless. I screamed back.. she was too emotional and needed to get over it- she was making things harder.

I made her cry.

She stormed out of the room, down the stairs, and slept in the living room that night. That's when she sent me those messages. The ones I read, but pretended to never see.

The ones I never responded to.


This week, those messages have consumed my thoughts. I can't shake it. I haven't been able to think of anything else. I still can't believe I didn't respond. Why the hell didn't I respond? What kind of sister does that?

I would give anything to go back to that night.. to go downstairs and talk to her.. to tell her I was sorry. I would give anything to go back and respond to her messages.

I never told her I would miss her. 
I never told her that I was dreading the goodbyes.
SHE depended on ME? That's so backwards.

Hindsight. If I had known then, what I know now...

I would have hugged her tight that night.
I would have made her sleep in our room.
I would have let her help me pack.
I would have told her I loved her.
I would have told her that she's irreplaceable.


"I know I'm not leaving you much to miss..."

Are you kidding me, Kid?
There's not a person in the world who can fill the hole you left in my life.

...and I'm sorry I didn't tell you that then.