What I Never Told You

That despite the distance between us as I whispered goodbye,
you were my best friend, my soulmate—
I'll see you again soon, yeah?

That you were the only one who ever really understood
I didn't need my problems solved every time things were hard.
All I needed was a hug.

That I appreciated all those times you obediently followed me
into the basement to get spaghetti sauce from the pantry in the back
when I was too scared to go alone.

That playing Polly Pocket in the middle of our bedroom floor
with the afternoon Sunday sun kissing our rosy cheeks
was one of my favorite things to do together.

That I still never told Mom we drank the ramen soup.
It is our secret to keep.
I'll take it to my grave just as you took it to yours.

That I was grateful for your shameless desire to
re-watch old Barbie movies at my hesitant request.
Sometimes I put one on and listen for your voice
reciting scenes word for word next to me.

That I didn't realize you allowed me to be selfish
by taking the first pick at the jewelry grandma brought us or
those cute stickers that grandpa got from Korea.
I always took the prettier ones and left you with the rest.

That you were also selfish in ways that drove us apart.

That you made mom and dad bend to your will.
Did you know you made them cry? Parents try so hard to hide
their vulnerability from their children.
But I saw it. Why did I have to see it?

That it hurts when I look back at my pictures from prom
and see that we don't have a single one together
because you weren't feeling well enough to come out of our room.

That you took mom and dad away from me
when I needed them most.
I blamed you for it. Resented you for it.

That that stupid facade you wore around others—
your clenched smile, your exaggerated hyperactivity
and zeal for life—made me mad.
Why did I, your own sister, not get to experience that side of you?

That your sickness turned you into the most ungrateful,
spiteful, and selfish person I knew.
I wish I didn't know you.
But the best I could do was become indifferent toward you.

That I, too, went to see a therapist,
and it hurt that you didn't even care to know.
But you could never know because it would have broken you.

That after a few years I had learned to forgive you
and learned how to love you again.
Was it too late?

That I knew it was.
That I miss you.
That I loved you.
That I love you.