today marks the second year this earth has been devoid of a beautiful human that was my sister.
i got destroyed. absolutely annihilated. i didn’t just hit rock bottom, i became it, i embodied it, i built myself a home in it. a few days before a year passed without her, i was petrified of how it would feel when that day comes again. when she left, it was a Sunday. when the day came a year later, it was a Tuesday. but something unexpected happened on that day — the day that i was supposed to be paralyzed with the burning and aching of grief and longing; the night i was supposed to be crying and bleeding on my bedroom floor.
exactly one year after she left, my life started changing. a journey of healing had begun. my mother’s whispers from the past year started sinking in. the smallest of my organs started coming back to life. their cells as vibrant and alive as that Monday my mother birthed me.
it’s a year after that day and two years after the day my sister transitioned, and it’s a Wednesday. my life now is a movie directed by my imagination and wild, reasonless, persistent desires. my sister, oh, my beautiful, beautiful sister is so alive — so, so alive i’m buzzing with happiness for her. it would be selfish and stupid of me to spend my days and nights clinging to memories of her and crying streams of an endless river of grief, thinking that we’re forever separated. we’re not! i feel her in me. every single day. we talk. i cry sometimes, but i’m joyous inside. for my sister whose eyes only saw black once are living between all the hues and lives and incredible phenomena of the heavens and cosmos.
she’s alive. and i am too.