2am thoughts and a missing letter

I’m missing a letter.  Whenever I was mad or upset,  feeling completely lost or abandoned,  I would take the envelope to a quiet space outside and read it.  It would calm me down,  after inciting a rather lengthy and robust cry.  I’m talking snot with no where to wipe off expect on your varsity hoodie.

The letter was written to me by my sister. It accompanied a framed picture of us and was a sendoff gift to varsity.

I hadn’t given much thought to it in a while, until I did… And noticed it was missing. Much like my family. Much like love in my life.

It’s been a year since I left home, although thrown out is more accurate. 8 months since Ive heard from my sister and mother,  2 months since my father.

You don’t really notice until you do and realise it’s missing.

I sacrificed my family to be who I am – to feel free to act the way I want,  and live the life I want.  But I’m here wondering if my sacrifice was worth it,  the obvious answer is no.

Clearly the goddess is showing how we cannot have it all in happiness – I had to pick between love of family and love of self.

Is this even a decision someone is supposed to make?

All I know is that I’m needing to hear my sister’s voice, but the 2am silence is deafening.

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