Sometimes — lots of times — I miss my sister. I realize I feel a little lost — about what I should be doing with my life in this very moment with the loss of a loved one complimented by an immense dedication to the very little smiling gifts that come in the form of an incredibly intelligent soon-to-be 7-year-old and a captivatingly cute 4 year-old. It’s not the fact I lost her that is the hardest, it is oddly enough trying to explain to people what is going on without mentioning what has actually happened. A lot of judgement comes with things like this whether people realize it or not, and I can feel it. Because I am the most judgmental person and I can spot it in a quick second. I, even, maybe at the top of this list of judges. Perhaps even the hardest one to beat.
I constantly juggle having such a tragedy persisting in my mind with trying to find the best ways to emulate my own personal happiness to the world. How do I convince people that I refuse to be touched by such a tragedy? More importantly, how do I convince myself? How do I stay strong for the people I love and even people I don’t know nor care about? How do I swallow fear? How do I do what makes me happy? Is there anything that really makes me happy? Is there anyone? These become more and more confusing with events like this. And here I stand. Strong and stubborn. Trying to figure the next steps in having it all while not having it all at the same time.
After all of this, I wonder who is the survivor. Me or my sister?