Forgiveness Letter To My Sister

Dear sister, I have a lot of pent up anger and resentment towards you. They say your first best friend in life is your sibling; that was not the case with us; you were my first enemy.

I had my first and only cigarette at six years old because of you. I had my first and only beer at six because of you. I know what suffocation and choking feel like at the hands of someone because of you. I had my first punch to the face at six because of you. That was also the day I lost my first tooth. You told me the crayon sharpener was a finger massager, so I stuck my finger in it and twisted it around while you watched. I have never seen so much blood in my life; I was eight.

You are more than likely the cause of my anger and violent impulses. Popping out of my closet as a child each night or waking up to you hovering over me with a butcher knife left a mark on me. You are one of the reasons I sleep with a knife at night under my pillow, the other reason we both share that trauma, but that’s for another time.

Being ten years apart, I can understand why we wouldn’t be as close as most siblings are, but we definitely should not have had the relationship (or lack thereof) we had growing up. Like an idiot idolized you and wanted to go everywhere, my older sister went and hung around you and all of your friends. The way our mother worked, we were always together, always.

As I got older, that love grew into hate, and soon the hatred grew into nothing at all; I feel nothing towards you. I think I love you because I am supposed to, but I don’t know if it is love. You took all the love I had to give and destroyed it. I learned from you that nowhere is safe, not even with family.

My kids are five years apart and are closer than ever. I never want them to turn out how we did. I never want them to go through what you put me through. I tell them that if you could only trust one person in the world, it should be each other. One can’t be without the other, and I envy their relationship. I never had that bond with anyone, and I don’t think I could ever develop one. My heart won’t let me love nor trust anyone. You are not the only reason, but it may have started with you.

You asked me last year if I forgave you for all that you did, and you asked me in front of our mother. I got angry all over again because I told her repeatedly about what all I went through with you. She told me to shut up; she didn’t want to hear anymore or that I was lying. Twenty years later, she finally learns the truth after twenty years of me being called a liar for being truthful.

I told you then I don’t know if I can forgive you. I went through a lot of pain, and I was labeled a liar for twenty fucking years. Well, I told you I forgave you, but I didn’t mean it then. Even though I haven’t covered half of what you did, not even an inch, I mean it this time.
I forgive you, finally.