Dear Sister,
Talking to you on Facebook tonight was strange. It was almost as though I’d never really met you properly; as though we were casual acquaintances. I think that that was my fault much more than it was yours – these things usually are – but it was the oddest thing. Not what I’d expected at all.
What I
want to do right now, what I’d give anything to have the chance to do, is to
give you a hug. I can feel your tiny
little waist in your jogging bottoms and your Year 11, and then your Year 13,
Leavers’ Hoodie in my arms still. I would
give anything, more than anything, for you to be here tonight. I want to play Evil Baby and swaying so that
we can see our reflections in the mirror with you. I want it to be you and me and me and you.
I’m
listening to a playlist I’ve made for you.
It’s got One Day Like This by Elbow on it. That’s the first time I’ve bought a piece of
music and you’ve really loved it. I’d
forgotten that, but it made me feel proud that something that I liked and that
I’d found first was something that you liked too.
I
thought that when you moved away, I was going to be OK. I kept telling people that I was going to be
really sad and that you are my best friend in all the world ever, but I thought
it’d be like that thing where you think you’re going to cry at the end of a sad
book, or a sad film, and then the moment comes and you miss it.
I’ve
got Panda now. I thought he might smell
like you, but he doesn’t although, to be fair, I can’t actually smell anything
because I’ve got an attractive blocked nose.
He’s not cuddly like you either.
The Military Wives has just come on. I don’t think
you even liked it all that much. I don’t
think you even ever nicked it from me, and you nicked most things which had
been released in the last decade! It
reminds me of you being in Year Thirteen though, and watching Gareth on the TV
and it being the four of us. And the
lyrics remind me of you.
I just
wish you’d come home. I don’t want you
to hate University at all. I want you to
love it and be good at it and have lots of friends and look forward to going
back after the holidays and put off coming home during termtime because you’re
going out with the people in your flat.
But I wish it was the beginning of Year 13 again and you were always at
home when I came home and you had work to do and sometimes you were grumpy with
me. I’d give anything to curl up in the
armchair and know that you were there on the sofa because you kept
squealing. I’d give anything for you to
get really cross with me for staring in public.
It’s
the Jubilee song now. Sing. I know it’s your very favourite ever. I can barely even listen to it because it
reminds me so much of everything about you.
Of how royalist you were and how completely unexpected it was. I’m repeating it for a third time now, as though
it might summon you up, bring you home.
I’m in bed now and it makes me cry so hard that I can’t sit still: it
forces me into a curled up shape. I
remember you telling me that there is no music which gets close to how much you
love this song. I wish you’d come back
and then we’d play it on repeat constantly for as long as you wanted. It reminds me of your A Levels and how hard
you worked and how you made yourself ill because you wanted to do well so
badly. I miss you.
Parade. We saw them at the Clothes Show. I don’t know whether you liked the song
because you liked the song, or because it reminded you of the day, but it
reminds me of your eighteenth birthday and of that day.
And
Payphone. Maroon 5. It was probably the last song we listened to together
before you went away. We were on the way
back from Granny’s because we’d been on an adventure and we had the radio
on. I didn’t know you loved it as much
as you did. It reminds me of Jersey this
year as well, and being together, just me and you, for a whole week. I miss it.
I wish, wish, wish that I could turn back time and we could do the whole
thing again. I wish we could do the
whole summer again, to be fair. So badly
that it hurts. It’s been amazing, this
summer. Yeah, there have been bits that
I regret, or that I’d rather not do again (and, of course – of course – I would
never wish you ill) but it’s been one of the best that I can remember.
And now
Happy Birthday. You silly girl! It was only last week. I felt as though I was losing you then, but
at least I still had your physical presence to hold onto. I do miss cuddles. And your advice. And laughing with you. All of it, really. I’m
so, so glad you’ve got Eva because I couldn’t bear to think of you being
miserable. When you rang earlier and
said you were going to sit on your bed and eat your salad, it almost broke my
heart. I don’t want you to be by
yourself, or being miserable. I want you
to have a cake with me. I’d happily eat
a million calories a day if you were here eating them with me. I’m sorry for that as well. So sorry.
I really am.
But here we are. That’s it.
Lots of love,
Me xxx
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