I just want you to be okay.

I heard somewhere that big sisters are supposed to help quench the thirsty dreams of their younger siblings. I’m sorry that I did not do that for you.

It’s crazy to be a witness to the erosion of your spirit that’s taken place over the last few years. It’s hard to watch someone so close to my heart become the personification of statistics, symptoms, and stories. It’s safe to say that a drug addict is everything they say he will be; a liar, a thief, and a desperate shadow of a person.

You still have a spark every once in awhile, but I sometimes wonder what the size of the flame would be, had heroin not decided to try and squelch it. Would you be a businessman? A drummer? A teacher?

Some days I slide down to the floor and cry achingly and I press my palms into my eyes, wishing away reality. It’s like I’m homesick for what used to be, for who you used to be. I want to laugh with the young boy who wore fake glasses in his school picture because he knew “class clown” was in his birthright. I want to joke around with the teenager who will still play Nintendo 64 with me, and won’t laugh when I lose every time.

I long for your eyes to see the world through sobriety, through actuality, through redemption. Because the world is an incredibly beautiful place that is desperate for the spark of humanity to come alive.

I long for your arms to be pink once more, with signs of life instead of death, signs of healing instead of affliction.

I long to know why this is your story – but I don’t know that any of us ever will. It is no less beautiful, and you are no less worthy of hope than any of us. We are a broken people, each of us.

You are not alone in this, you are never alone. The fullness of love is attainable; you just have to look for it.

I love you.

Sincerely,