To my sisters,

"Your sister is your first friend in life. No one will ever understand your crazy family like your sister. Even if you don't get together or talk as much as you could, she'll always remain your friend. Your sister will hold your hand for a little while, but will hold your heart for a lifetime. It's 'National Sister Week', re-post if you have sisters that you love with all your heart."

 I saw this post wandering around, making its way all over the Facebook world about two weeks ago and couldn't help but feel cheated.  It took from then until now to get pass all my anger that I hold in my heart for you.  And when a good friend suggested to cry, scream it out and slug my pillow as if it were your face, I just smiled and accepted the advise.  I smiled because I knew I had done all of it already and still I am filled with more anger and frustration than before, more than that of a lifetime.  You are supposed to be the one here for me, to hold my hand and to gently nudge my chin up when my head has fallen.  Where the fuck are you?  You used me at your weakest moments and threw me away at your strongest.

I was there for you both.  I never left your side even when Mama and Mami said they didn't want you to stay in their home any longer.  I didn't stand behind you, but in front of you and told them that I will be with my sister; where she goes, I go.  I left everything, year after year, for you.

It must have been tough being the oldest, I can't say I understand.  But when Mom and Dad were hard on you, I protected you.  Still today I calm down our mother when she gets worked up about your attitude and I smile when our father speaks your praises.  But when Tony left you, I was there and when everyone was against Adam, I was on your side.  I protected you as a sister and him as a brother.  It was me who convinced our parents that this is what you wanted and he is who makes you happy.  It was me and I did it for you, unconditionally.

I also protected you, you know this.  Without a dollar in my pocket I never said no to anything for you.  Anywhere I went I always bought you an 'I'm thinking of you' gift.  I always had you in mind.  You were my best friend, my sister.  Even when I hated you most, I still told Mom and Dad to let stop dragging it out and let you finally marry Connor.  I was always there for you.  I ended friendships with those who treated you with such disregard.  You were my baby sister and the most important thing in my entire life.  I couldn't even see you get sick, it hurt me so badly.

I don't know what I did to have lost you both so easily.  My hatred for you is so strong that it has become the single most thing I am passionate about. You have failed me.  No matter how successful you may think you are in your separate lives, you will always be a derelict loafer.  Your money and your child and your other families will never make up for your lack in my life.  We are sisters, whether you care to believe it or not, and this pain I feel every-single-day is what will keep you from being completely, blissfully happy ever.

When you both got married, I was there.  I smiled and cried and laughed for you all.  I felt happiness for you as if it were my own.  And now, when I reach that point in my life, you will not be there.  You will not insist on your sibling-esque duties to stand by my side on my happiest day.  That day will be all about me and my family.  You are not, in any definition of the word, my family.  I wish I could forget about you.  You mean so little to me that I can't believe I am allowing myself to hate you.  I shouldn't care. But for some reason, I DO.

I feel the heaviness in my heart every moment of every day that I breathe.  Every time I see or eat or do anything, for just a brief microsecond the thought of sharing it with you passes my mind, and then all of my heart is filled up with animosity, so much that I can't ever love someone as much as I detest you.  I wish there were some measure to forbid you from allowing me to want to care.  I loathe your essence and feel complete malice to the very thought of you.      

In reality, I haven't lost anything by losing you.  So, why do I feel otherwise?  I suppose that I hate you so much that I hate hating you just as much.

In forever repugnance,

Ripple

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