I Missed It

I don't even know where to start. I messed up. Big time. And I can't fix it. That's what eats me up inside, every single day. It's been… almost five years now. Five years since I completely screwed everything up with my sister, Emily.

We were never super close, I guess. Typical sibling stuff – jealousy over clothes, who got more attention from Mom, the usual. But when Dad got sick, we started to lean on each other. It was like, finally, we were on the same team. Holding each other up. We visited him in the hospital, sat through endless appointments, made him laugh when he felt like crap. It was awful, but we were in it together.

Then, after he died, everything changed. Emily got really… withdrawn. I figured she was just grieving. I was too. But she started pushing me away. Wouldn't answer my calls, made excuses when I suggested we grab coffee, just… gone. I was dealing with my own grief, trying to sort through Dad's stuff, and honestly, I just got annoyed. I thought she was being selfish. Like *I* wasn't hurting too?

So I stopped trying. I told myself she'd come around when she was ready. I focused on my own life, my job, trying to keep it all together. Big mistake. Huge.

Turns out, she was going through something way bigger than just grief. She was diagnosed with… well, it doesn't matter what it was. The point is, she needed me. And I wasn't there. I found out about it months later, through a mutual friend. Months. She went through all that alone. Chemotherapy, the surgeries, the fear… all of it, without her sister.

I tried to reach out then, of course. I called, I texted, I even went to her apartment. She wouldn't see me. Said she needed space. That I’d already made my choice. I haven't seen her since.

I’ve tried to tell myself it's not my fault. That she should have told me. That she pushed me away. But deep down, I know I failed her. I was so wrapped up in my own pain that I didn't see hers. I missed the signals, I didn't try hard enough, and now… now I've probably lost her forever.

I don’t know if she'll ever forgive me. I don't even know if I deserve it. I just… I regret it so much. I regret not being there for her. I regret being selfish. I regret missing it. I truly, deeply, regret it.

Maybe writing this down will help a little. Probably not. But I had to say it somewhere.