Selfish

I suppose its time to reflect on what's been written in "Who is She". This is my life story. No one can tell it better than me. As I'm reflecting, writing, reliving, so many memories flood in. The chronological order of it all, I can only do my best with putting it in its right place. I'm stuck remembering a lot of the negative "scenes" and emotions that are tagged to it. When I started this, I began to have nightmares of being watched. Like when you're leaving your shift and you look around the parking lot and check your door handles for anything suspicious, but you FEEL someone watching you. Quickly you get in your car and lock the door immediately. Goosebumps. Whoever it was, was there. That's the feeling I would have in my dreamworld, reliving the feelings I had as a child. My subconscious was taking me there to conquer it. Stand up for myself. I'm still working on it.

It's been a weird journey with this project so far. For the last few months I've hit a block. Maybe because I don't have a family member "fueling the fire". I still feel like my story is important and my motivation is to help others not feel alone with their story. Inspiring others that its possible to over come their story and be the light. I mean, honestly, what's been written thus far is just the tip of the ice burg. I have all of my 20's to write about! haha!

Mom: (Self-Definition): a parent

The day the world stopped. September 11, 2001. My teacher cried, Ms. Chiffon, 2nd grade at Doctor Daniel Bright. Michael loved that we were going to the school he went to. School got out early, the bus driver was a wreck and couldn't handle us rambunctious kids. I remember getting home, disbelief and grief filled the house. Everything felt weird for a while.

My parents made some interesting friends along the way. Spring, she was really sweet. Looking back now, she was hurting and covering it up with the drugs. Every 20 something does. Michael had his cousin Kyle around. I think he and Spring were fooling around. Spring was so awesome, she played barbies with me and sister, helped us build forts too. Then one day, she was gone. I don't know what happened to her. Looking back I wish I had asked why.

They had made friends with this couple who had 4 kids. Their house was always a mess, like trashed. I was friends with Marissa, the oldest; sister was friends with Heather, the middle and the youngest was so annoying and cried all the damn time. The girls shared a room, but it was an entire open floor down stairs. We weren't really allowed to come up stairs, if we did, we got in trouble. Marissa got everything she always wanted, daddy's girl. I was always jealous of how she got her way. I wished I had a dad to be "daddy's girl". I tried with Michael, but as life with him became, I remember having the feeling that I shouldn't.

At one point we were kicked out of Grandma J's. We moved in with the friends that lived up the road, we had set up in their garage. I slept on a cot on school nights and in Marissa's bed on the weekends. Kyle was staying with us. He was fun, we called him Uncle Kyle. I remember I asked him to sleep with me; I was the kid who wanted every visitor to sleep in my bed. Why is that a thing? Kid's wanting everyone who visits in their bed? That's weird, right? Anyway, I felt him get into my bed. He laid there for a few moments and then turned over. His hand gliding up my thigh, to the opening of my shorts. His hand had started the attempt to crawl in between the fabric of my shorts and my privates. I shimmied away saying "Uncle Kyle" in humiliation and, he laughed, nervously and ashamed. He got up and went to the bathroom, obviously to finish himself off. He crawled back into my bed after. Men are sick, and drugs are bad.... mmkay. I don't know if I ever told her about that. Would she have done anything? She was messed up too.

Mother: (self-definition): Protector

Arizona. Michael's mom, brother and other family live there. We travelled for 3 days maybe 4. We had 2 cats with us, Gemini and Romeo; I forget how we acquired him. He was a sweet orange kitty and loved to roam the neighborhood. Somewhere between moving from Illinois, visiting Iowa for my birthday and moving to Arizona, we stopped for ice cream and I let him try it... then I couldn't get him to stop eating it. I remember watching a home video, we're at a park, sister and I out of the car and parents in the car. She aims the camera at me asking me what happened, and the look of disappointment on my face as I look down at my ice cream, which I barely had taken a lick of. We couldn't help but laugh.

Family of 4 packed with 2 cats, tailer in tow. I think it was a 96 ford escort. Missouri, Kansas, Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico. Arizona. We stopped in Texas to see some of Michael's old friends. This is when my love for a Great Dane started. They had 2, I think, probably such a big dog in a small house, it seemed like it was 2. He had his own couch and lived like a king. I remember he didn't like the video camera. She found that out. On the road again. One of the cats pooped in the car, I laughed and sister cried, it was on her blanket. We stopped in Albuquerque. So incredibly cool that we passed through as the Hot Air Balloon Fest was happening. I loved to see them in all sorts of shapes and characters and colors! Just wow. We stayed at a hotel once or twice. One of the nights we stayed at a hotel, a fight broke out between my parents. I couldn't sleep, the TV on, apparently Michael couldn't sleep either. He put on the porn channel and was playing with himself. He didn't know I was awake, I didn't know what to do, I was kind of frozen. If I moved, I feared he'd know I was awake, Id get in trouble. He started to play with her too. They fucked while we were in the same room. I mean.. that's weird right? I was 7, sister 5. If they were in the bathroom together or something, not that it would make it better, but at least we wouldn't be in the same room, 3 feet away. I think she realized I was awake. Michael punched the wall, they were screaming at each other, I don't remember words, just the energy. Violent. I felt like it was my fault. I remember looking at him like I was supposed to say I'm sorry. Sorry for what? Being a kid. existing? I don't think anything was ever mentioned of that again. Back on the road.

We moved in with Grandma J, Michael's mom, and Jeremy, her roommate. She was so excited to see him after so many years. Hearing her yell his name and run to him with open arms. That's a sweet core memory. I think he had been in Arkansas for a while, maybe he lived with his dad at some point and learned he wasn't what he thought? I have a feeling their relationship has always been a bit strained. My parents had the master bed with the bathroom. It was definitely a small house, there was a huge back yard though. I guess this is when my story gets more messy. She learns an awful lot about Michael and his vices. Their drinking didn't get better and it seem that meth was still making a monster of them. I remember her tweaking out that a cop lived across the street. She peeked through the blinds often, thinking someone is watching the house. Was Grandma J in on their addiction too? Jeremy?

The neighborhood kids were cool! Alvey and his brothers Sampson and Zane, Lacey and her brother Andrew, Chelsea and her brother Jake, LeTizia and her brother Emelio, Natalie was an only child brat, there were some girls who lived on the end of the street, I forget their name. I got caught stealing my parents lighters to pretend to smoke weed under her back porch; rolled up leaves in a play-doh pipe, man did that shit burn! Daniel, and his brothers. I was in love with Daniel, I suppose he was my first kiss! Mike and Marc McCoy, twins, all the girls swooned. We were the cool kids. We built ramps out of cinder blocks and ply wood for our bikes. Had to see how many of us we could jump over, before the back tire hit someone. Many major bifs when the board snapped. How high of a jump could we make? 3,4 blocks high? 5? Letizia told the story of El Chupacabra, had me scared for months. We definitely tried. Chelsea "married" Emileo, he was 5 and she was 12, young love! We had balloons, food, cake, and gifts to celebrate the new couple. I have a photo album of that! Gem! Sister and Zane were on and off. When Daniel moved, I was in love with Alvey, but crushing hard on his older brother Sampson. So many cool forts were built! Tarps, 2X4's, nails and cinder blocks. Why there was a pleather of cinderblocks, I do not know.

Conclusion -She Let Go-

Our journey is bumpy together. Our childhood is traumatic. One shines their Light, the other sits in her darkness. As I've said before, our mother has conditioned me to be there for her no matter what, and I have. We've endured drug and alcoholic parents, sexual and physical abuse from them, moving and separation from the family we love, and hardships through high school. No matter how wrong she is in any situation, I held her heart and she held my hand.

After high school, I moved to Florida. She felt I abandoned her. Left her with no one to hold her heart and make sure she was okay. I had been gone only for a few months when I got the call; Michael had been caught videoing her in the shower. The call was from himself. He was ashamed and scared, I could hear it in his voice. What did he expect me to say? All I could say was, well... you have to own up to this and make it right, I don't know how, but this is bad. He already had history with me, and now my mother failed us again, by allowing it to continue on with sister. I couldn't be there for her, I knew she hated me for it.

From a young age, she developed a way with manipulation. She would turn our parents against each other, taking the focus off her so she could do as she wanted. Disregarding the history our step-father had with me and advisement from mother, she chose to wear tight and revealing clothing around him. Almost enticing him so she can turn mother against him. What was her thinking on this? He shouldn't be looking. Well, duh, of course not, especially considering he's supposed to be our "father". He has a problem. There comes a point where you have to protect yourself, why did she choose not to? I by no means blame her for what happened. Mother failed us, but she failed herself too. She always wanted the attention; if I was talking, she made sure she was heard, if Michael was focused on mother, she was distracting him, if mother was focused on Michael, she was distracting her. No matter the cost. Attention whore.

My sister has a history of drug abuse, since she was 13. Drinking robitussin and alcohol, pills, coke, I can only hope meth isn't on that list. All the while being medicated for depression and anxiety. A few years back she had a major medical situation. The doctors couldn't figure out what was causing her so much pain in her hip. She was on the pain meds and drinking. The only way she knew how to cope. Grew up watching our parents. After a long few months, many doctor visits, and a trip to the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota, she got an answer. By then she was dependent on the meds and the way of life she grew to know. She cut me out most of this time of her life. I knew she wasn't well because of it. Like I've said, she's part of me.

As I'm living my life in Florida, I do my best to water the relationship. The phone calls got shorter and her tone towards me grew colder. She was being molded by the way of life she was choosing. She was already a moody child, but the substances just made it worse. We'd be in the middle of a healthy conversation about whatever she was going through and like a light switch, she'd flip and I've turned into the enemy. I'm against her and she's projecting her anger towards me, causing me to question everything in the conversation. Gas lighter. She's become a narcissist. As her sister, I fought to look past these traits and see the origin of it. I endured for years.

She moved in with me 2 years ago. Excited and hopeful to be together. Nothing but turmoil and chaos. I started divorce papers and we moved in together, it barely lasted 4 months. I couldn't take the verbal abuse and destruction she caused. The moment I realized I needed to move out was the night of her birthday, February 22,2021. We had gone out and the tequila was smooth. My best hometown friend was visiting and we were celebrating. The last bar we went to, a friend, who I had always felt connected to, walks in. My silly self is to the moon excited to see him, while realizing I need to go home. Thankfully, he lived in the apartments next to mine. But I didn't go home. Both of us drunk and in the back seat, I wish I could remember more. Thanks tequila. The door flies open, and I'm being dragged out by my ankles. She proceeds to beat the shit out of me. I barely remember her banging my head against the pavement and her thumbs pressed against my eyelids as I scramble from her hold. She punched Jakob 3 times in the face and threw is wallet and phone across the parking lot. She ran off, calling my ex to tell him I was with his best friend. What a night. I've come to the conclusion that she was jealous, why else would she react that way. When I asked her, she said " because you shouldn't have been there", as if she could tell me how to live my life. I didn't drink for a while after that and I moved out in April.

We didn't speak for a few months. She tried to cause turmoil at my secondary workplace, the kava bar, what had become my safe place. She started to work at one of the locations, even came in as a customer on my shifts. Making friends with my friends and guests at my bar, she enjoyed telling them how she beat my ass that night. It hurt and embarrassed me, which is what she wanted. With time, though, many saw who she was and didn't pay her any attention. She stopped coming around which was nice, but I worried. Come November, maybe early December, she totaled her jeep. Drinking and driving. How that girl didn't go to jail is beyond belief. When she told me, I had a meltdown. She nearly died. I nearly lost her, forever. In December, I Baker Acted her. The scariest call I've ever received. The relationship she was in hit an ending and she swallowed a handful of sleeping pills. She hated me, again, but only for a few days. I helped through that month. It was hell on both of us, but she came out stronger. For a short time.

We grew closer after that. Helped celebrate her birthday again, the sober way. Jakob and I crossed paths again that night, too. The Universe is a beautiful force.

Over the summer, I had heard from concerned friends that she was abusing nitrous. A can had blew up on her and she had turned blue in the face. Ugh, I wanted to cry. I'm scared to lose her. I called my mother, in hopes of getting sound advice and support for my concern. It was the opposite. I was told that my extra curricular activities were no different. On a rare occasion I smoke pot, but more so I eat mushrooms. Not only for the psychedelic effects, but the mental stability I gain from it. It's called micro dosing. In my mind, my mother just compared nitrous to mushrooms, like meth to pot. I was so disturbed by this, I lost even more respect for my mother.

The last couple of months I saw her grow tremendously. She was a joy to be around, we laughed, we cuddled and we told each other how much we love and mean to each other. She had been eating mushrooms. I watched her transform. She loved life, she loved to think deeper about the bigger picture. We went to the beach and talked and comforted each other. Our rollercoaster ride was on the up. I enjoyed telling my grandma, mom and aunt about how she was doing.

What changed? Where did she decide to turn on me? It's come to a point in our story where she let go. I don't think she realizes it, when she does, will she be okay?

Jakob and I had gone to a music festival in Georgia. She calls me frantic about what's just happened. Someone she fell for, but was complicated because he wasn't over his past relationship. No doubt he cared about her, but she didn't want to give him the space he needed. She grasps onto him like her life depended on it. She learned that from our mother. So the fight that caused this call, she's videoed cornering him in his room and aggressively going towards him. He wanted her out. Understandably so. She tells me she has no where to go, I tell her to figure it out, it'll be okay. She has friends she could stay with until I got home. We could figure it out then. I live with Jakob and his family, there's not much for room to help someone figure out their living situation, let alone with an 18 year old cat. I wanted to be there for her, but I'm out of town and cant do anything from Georgia. On that call with me, she didn't mention staying at our house, just that she'll figure it out. She called Jakob's mom. Bless her heart, she heard my sister distraught and wanted to help, of course. We get the text on the way home, that sister is staying with us. I was upset. We have a history of rollercoaster rides in our relationship, this was going to derail us.

She stayed for a week, but that wasn't the problem. Her attitude and entitlement in the situation was. When we walked in the door from our long weekend, she's wearing my clothes, she had been in set up in our room all weekend with her cat. In our space. Trying to talk to her about her plan throughout the week, ended in her gas lighting and manipulating the conversation. By the end of the week we had finally calmly and clearly converse and talked about options and a plan; she felt better and so did I. She left Friday. The entire issue with this situation was that Jakob and I felt like we were taken advantage of and disregarded. I needed to tell her, but timing is everything.

The next week Hurricane Ian was headed towards us. 2 mph shy of a Category 5 hitting our coast. Fort Myers Beach, Sanibel, and Captiva nearly wiped off the map, flooding and storm surge was catastrophic in surrounding areas. We had friends who lost their home staying with us, family of 5 with 4 dogs and 2 bunnies. No electric and everyone's feeling a little tense. The day after the storm, I missed her calls. Cell service is spotty, so I hardly looked at my phone. Thinking its an emergency, I call back. She answers upset because I didn't pick up her beta fish from the guy she lived with. The whole conversation was so ridiculous, I hung up on her. At this point, there's bigger fish to fry.

As life is getting back to normal after the storm, I'm amongst the many who return to work. It felt great to be behind the chair, being there for my guest as they endure the hardships from the storm. Draining, but happy to be a shoulder to lean on. She texts me to touch up her under cut and take care of her brows. I love taking care of her, however she texted me a few hours later telling me she doesn't have the money and if I can spot her. So now I've blocked my last hour for her, so that I can pay for my services. She has a habit of nonchalantly being an inconvenience and she doesn't care either.

She asked me to pick her up from the airport. Mother paid her way home for the weekend. Slightly jealous of the favoritism, I was happy she was able to take a break from her reality. It's not a terrible drive up there, so I had no problem agreeing to it and I brought Jakob's brother. He enjoys adventures with me. I looked forward to hearing about her weekend. Sadly, there was a lot of tragedy back home. Her friend from high school committed suicide and my high school best friend's ex step dad murdered his girlfriend. Emotions were high. I could tell when she got in the car she had been coked out and drunk all weekend. So I knew to tread lightly. I tried to stay focused on my mission for the day; laundry, clean the bathroom, schedule my oil change. She wanted to talk about whatever was bothering me, which good for her on picking up on my vibrations. I tried to deflect the conversation as much as possible, but she kept pressing the buttons. I started with the situation on how I felt about her staying at our house and that was as far as I got. She only heard that I felt taken advantage of. She interrupted me, started defending herself and lashing out. What pushed me the most was her telling me that I'm a shitty person, a piece of shit and worthless. The intention she put behind it and the forceful energy triggered me. As I was moving out of my ex's house, he screamed those same words to me; saying anything to tear me down and break me. The look on his face is scarred in my memory. It was demonic. From that day I vowed to myself to never allow anyone to speak to me that way, ever. The adrenaline rushing through to me, I could feel my throat tightening, palms sweating as I'm driving her to her destination. I pulled to the house and she left. I blocked her immediately, on all platforms. I will stand by the vow I made myself. Never again.

Momma: one's mother

I came home from one of my road trips with Mamaw. We no longer had furniture. She said they were infested with chiggers. I had gotten them once. Thinking about this now, I went to a movie in the park, Jurassic Park, I think I went with my boyfriend and his mom. Naturally we laid on a blanket in the grass. I leaned my elbow outside of the blanket and went home with bumps and an unbearable itch. So knowing what these bugs were, I understood how irritable it can make a person. I also know that they don't infest homes. Clearly something else was up. Looking back, she was high and tripping out as the chemicals were trying to crawl out of her skin. Incase you didn't know, clear nail polish suffocates and kills them. She knew it wasn't chiggers.

Weird bits and pieces of memories like that pop up. Long car rides of us complaining about the dead skunk we would drive by every 3 mins. The local rock station playing Korn and Incubus, singing every word and headbanging in the back seat. Where we went I have no idea, we sat in the car, but it was always a grubby trashed house of some sort. We were there for what seemed like an hour, probably only 20 mins. I wonder if some of the fights between her and Michael were because she took too long grabbing their dope. I wonder how often she slept with her dealer to get what she wanted. Did Michael know?

Next thing I knew, we were moving. She took us to Iowa, Michael went to Illinois to work with my Auntie Becky's boyfriend. One thing Michael was good at was working, if he didn't work, he was an asshole and the entire house knew he was unhappy. Back in Iowa, for the first time since we moved, I think; It was my great grandma's birthday and mine the day after hers. I spent the day at the pool. The concession stand had such good fries! I came home to a cake shaped as a butterfly, with purple frosting. She said her and grandma had batter and frosting everywhere to make the cake. In this same week, some family friends who lived by the river had us over. We grilled and threw a talent show. We got dressed up as whoever it was we were enacting. Clearly, I was Brittney Spears and I had to sing Oops I did it again. Definitely have that on video somewhere. I'd love to see that.

A few days later, we left for Illinois, my Godfather was in town so she weaseled him into riding along. It's a 3 hour car ride, so we passed out as the adults partied on the road. Driving to my Auntie Becky's house, she lived in an unfamiliar area. I remember something Lions. We pulled into a gas station, I remember slightly waking up to my Godfather telling her its a bad idea, as there were cops sitting there. She's stupid to think they didn't smell the alcohol on her breath and the aroma of Godfather's finest doobies. They gave her directions to have her surrounded by cops within a matter of minuets. I remember feeling glad she got caught. For being 7, already I had an amount of resentment and desire for justice towards my mother. Both in handcuffs, the cops searching the car, finding half drank beer cans in the cup holders and their paraphernalia. To the cop shop we go! My Auntie Becky picked us up, but the memory is fuzzy after.

Somewhere on this timeline, we moved in with my Aunt Treasa. They had built a wall in their back room for us. It was summer, so I loved being with my cousins. We always had fun. We went to a car show in Lombard, everyone had been drinking. Apparently my aunt had seen my parents pouring beers into their coke cans, or maybe it was my parents seeing my aunt do that? By the end of the night, everyone was feeling the booze. Do you think the evening continued with laughs and silly drunkenness? A fight broke out between her and my aunt. Screaming and fists flying. My aunt dragging my mother by her hair down the stairs. I watched from the backseat of the car, Michael in the driver seat, sister next to me. What was this fight about? To my knowledge because my aunt found their dope stash in her house. Who knows, everyone was drunk. We stayed in a hotel that night.

Coffee gets me through my day! If you'd like to support my journey, here's a link!

Woman: (according to Oxford Dictionary) an adult female human being

The Mayflower apartment was a run down complex in the middle of now where. My Godfather lived across the hall way from us. Before she married Michael, he basically lived there, or in his truck on that hill. I remember their fights. Verbal and physical, he liked to break her things. He had a drinking and anger problem. She supported his habit, he wasn't even 21. I blame him for her current drinking problem. When she kicked him out, the other guy, Skippy, was around. Dependent on men. Looking back, I don't understand how she met the people she had around. Didn't she work? Didn't she have kids? She kept us from our dad as much as possible, so we weren't as his house. Maybe these were all friends from my Godfather?

Reflecting on the memories in this apartment, I can still smell the building. Damp carpet, musty, coated with cigarette drywall, with a hint of marijuana. I remember the environment we lived in. Drug house meets life with kids. Her friends over often, Pacer and Eddy, 2 I remember the most. She never had "girl" friends, she was always afraid of competition. If she did, their friendship would end in fist fight.

As we left Iowa, before my parents divorced, we stopped at the Whities on the north end of Bellevue to fuel up before we hit the road. They had the best bumble gum soft serve and gas was 99 cents. Now whether this was rumor or true, I don't know, but the memory remains. Hearing her scream how much of a dumb bitch this woman is for sleeping with her husband, as she whips the air hose at her. I'm sitting in the front seat of the U-Hal crying and watching in awe. I've never known my mother to have female friends since.

Living in that apartment does have good memories. My Mamaw coming for visits was always the highlight for me. We sang and danced, we played so much. Sometimes I was able road trip back with her to Illinois. Brittney Spears on replay. Did my grandma know the life I was living in? She may not have been told, but she knew. I brought home a kitty, Gemini, he was fluffy, grey and white. I found him at my dad's apartment. He lived until I was 19, he was 18 and loved to steal Cheeto Puffs from the bag. I pretended to be a model and did fashion shows. I played my SEGA, the lion king game and Sonic, of course. Oh and the one Christmas, I swear I saw Santa outside of my window. That year we got bikes!

My dad lived in the apartments behind the Sonic, in Conway, same complex we initially moved into a year or so prior. His girlfriend was nice. They named their son Mikey. I loved him so much, I was so excited to be a big sister again. I wish I had more memories with them. Like I said, she kept us from our dad. She hated(s) him.

She loved the video camera. Always wanted to capture our moments. I remember one moment, I was twirling and dancing with my banana, sister comes up and with love, I give her the banana. She takes it, looks at it, throws it on the ground and stomps on it. I think that was the start of sisters videoed tantrums. Every out burst sister had, she had the camera out to capture the moment. I think the point of doing this was to show sister what she looked like, sounded and how ridiculous she was being. Recording her carried on for many years. Nothing beneficial came of it, probably making her worse and what she is today.

Mother (according to Oxford Dictionary): a woman in relation to her child or children; bring up (a child) with care and affection; give birth to.

From what I was told, my Mamaw sent her to Iowa to live with my great grandparents, when the news of me came to light. Young parents wanting a family of their own, because they wanted to build something better than what they had. Break the generational curses, perhaps. Of course, GG made them get married, boy did they look unhappy in their wedding pictures, their journey had only begun. I was nearly a year old, of course I looked happy! Little did i know this ride I was on, was to be everything short of joy. By their looks in the photos, maybe they knew?

Small town living. It was a single wide trailer in Spruce Creek, 3, maybe 4 trailers down from my grandparents. My dad has told me, many times, of him proudly singing " I got a porkchop baby" as he carried me into my new home. She claims he wasnt there for my birth, that he was probably screwin one of her friends. I remember him taking me for rides on his dirt bike, and sledding in the rock quarry. Weird how those ended up being core memories . I remember when she brought home Simba. I couldnt sleep, so as any 4 year old does, I drank so much water I had to pee every 5 minutes. There I was, with my little booty on the toilet, and she walks in with my first kitten. It's 1997 (ish), of course Lion King is my favorite, so Simba was the only suitable name. We moved to Arkansas when I was 5. If I remember correctly, my Godfather was there and claimed there was opportunity. I also know my parents had created a reputation with drugs and cheating in the home town. Did they out run the problems?

They divorced of course, she did catch him cheating, but she was also sleepin with my Godfather's friend. They fought all the time anyways. They were still mixed up with the drugs. I suppose that answers the question about their problems.

There's our backstory. Now we've come to this moment in our journey. I have to say, I'm incredibly drained. I bring her fresh clothes. I tried to sneak in a Reese's, but the office found it. I continued go up to the hospital and stand outside the window and wave to her. We dance and be silly, like we when were kids. She's cries. I cry when I leave. I will move mountains for this girl, and I'll drain myself of every last bit of energy I have. Does she know it? Is she taking advantage of me? Will she return to being cold and emotionless towards me? I have hope this time... The way she cries for my hugs and love; I know I'm her safe place. I know I am. I feel her energy needing the safety of me. Something I'm learning, feeling other's energy; blessing and burden.

7 years later, she finally moved down. Our relationship still rocky. I was nervous but excited for this new journey. I was ready to end the chapter of life I was in. My other half was here so we could protect each other through this ride. Newness, a scary ride. It hasn't been easy since she's been here. I don't agree with her way of life, she thinks I have a stick up my ass.

We lived together, it didn't work. We butted heads hard. I was going through a divorce, she was settling into everything new. We were anxious and depressed. We parted ways in April. Hardly speaking in the months to follow. We were civil with each other when we crossed paths; back to mildly cold. I wanted to hold her close and never let her go.

i think there's something special about me. i have an adoration for talking to people, genuinely asking them about their day. i do that because, if you think about it, not often are you asked about your day and someone actually cares. but i do. i want to help you through your bad day, or celebrate with you on your best day. maybe because no one genuinely asks me about my day and listens and responds in a way that helps me through or celebrates me. which is okay!! not complaining. there can only be one ceyde. i mean, i suppose i could ask myself about my day and really evaluate it. use my subconscious and higher self to respond. what did they see?

its funny because i actually used to hate peopling. it was draining when i had nothing to give, but that was because i was married to a narcissistic ass hole who took all my energy. ( i hope hes healing and on a better path these days) now i use spare parts to do things i love and i have the spare energy to lend. ive also learned to be present with the person im conversing with, when theyve left my space, i recycle their energy into love and light.

I moved to Florida when I was 19, I continue with this guilt that I left her behind. Though, I know I did what's best for me. Our phone calls and Skype chats faded after a few months. Life gets busy when you're not around. We understood each other and always could feel when we needed a chat. In tune. We spent hours wit each other, 1,447.1 miles apart. It was just what we needed to get us through.

I started to grow my own ways, I found a Florida boy, grew spiritually, and worked in the restaurant industry. Busy is an understatement. She had a boyfriend every opportunity, I thought I had to get her to move down to Florida with me. I wanted my busy life and for her to come be busy with me; but the boyfriend. So I waited until the breakup, call, talk, entice. She came for a visit after she graduated. I was hoping she'd stay forever. It was a fun week. I cried when she left. A little while later, boyfriend. A trait passed down from my mother, we need a man to be our priority. No shade, just what it is.

When I was little, my mother raised me to protect my little sister. At all cost. No matter what, we’re all each other has. She’s your sister. Boy, has that never been more true. This other half of me, roams, living her own life, making her own choices and creating her own relationships. Creating her own path. She’s part of me, yet she’s not. She’s my sister.