I
I was perfectly happy, and then I met you and maybe you reminded me of him a bit, though not at first. But I wouldn't know how a sister should act, or a brother. I have never known. But now you remind me of him. He was on the right track, but then he died, and I feel I should have helped him more, could have helped him more but for my stubbornness and need to force independence on others. And we’re friends now of a sort, you and I, and you’re trying so hard to get your life back on track, working hard, finding this new girl that I hope will stick with you and love you unconditionally. It’s just that you remind me of him sometimes – in a way. But then he died. And now I worry over you, because we are friends, and I am sick with loss.

Steam coming off the hot blacktop was thick, heavy and moist, difficult to breathe. I thought of you and almost cried, but I am out - in public. The tearing subsided, but the ache in my heart made the breathing even worse. Something’s wrong, I know it. It’s getting better, or rather, getting less – alleviating slowly. But it’s there, a deeply seeded sense of loss. And I cling to your friendship, inarticulately, like a child, while my heart is breaking over I know not what, but I listen to you and that is enough to draw me out of heartbreak. I don't feel I ever really listened to him. And everyone is always leaving.

II
My cycles are dwindling since May when I lost her in my heart - that tiny little spec of hope that was never there, and I wonder if worry is the cause. And when I lose everyone, who will remain? I feel like I have never been without you, and yet sometimes feel we are the victim of a certain sequence of events that we never stopped to ponder. But what will happen if I loose you? I worry. I am sick with loss and everyone is always leaving - except for you. But I am scared just a bit.

And my heart is bleeding...crushed and raw.