I told her not to be afraid of leaving those she loved or being left
by the ones she loved back.
It's how I lived and the only way I could live, in order to leave in
the first place.
If I thought too hard about what I was doing - what might happen and
who I was leaving, I surely would never had seen or done the things
I have. I would not be the person I am and desperately wanted and
needed to become.
She wants to leave. Badly.
She has wanted to leave since she was six years old.
It's in her bones - and although we are not blood sisters - it's like
the universe put us together almost 20 years ago and didn't tell us.
...because in every sense, she is my little sister.
I want to tell her to go go go, live and love and be loved - fall and
pick herself up as many times as she needs to.
But at the same time, I want to protect her from the very things I did
and the blindness I sometimes feel I had while leaving everyone behind.
It's a hard call and one I am not happy to make.
But I must make it just the same because that is what the world asked
of me when they put us together.
When they gave me the honor of being Mallory's big sister.
And now I am watching her leave.
I am watching her life become hers and stories being written
for only her to tell. So many I will never be there for, see or understand.
The way a life should be.
And all I can do is sit back and hope that my life on the run didn't entice
or romance her too much.
And that while running, the tales that were not so sweet, didn't scare
her from making her own and taking her own roads - good and bad.
For all it's worth, I think I was completely honest and bare boned about
what not being afraid to leave costs.
I hope.
Because sometimes it's true - I need to just sit down and wail.
One big wail like you hear coming from the mouths of the homeless
cats lingering along the fences.
I let one out every now and then.
Both to honor the ones I left and love - and release the pain that I know
because of it, will never go away.
