Little Sister

I believe I may have mentioned being an only child. So when I say “Little Sister,” I do not mean biologically but more on a spiritual (or something like that) level. My Little Sister (who will be referred to as such from this point on) is actually my 20 year old next door neighbor.

Little Sister is a beautiful, strong and scarred young woman. She is damaged the same way I was before I started fixing myself and then let The Zen Master finish the job. She has been through hell and back, more so even than I have and she still stands which never ceases to amaze me. She has been stomped, beaten and degraded, physically and emotionally; literally and figuratively. She is smack dab in the middle of the shit-storm I found myself in several years ago when I thought my life was just about over or at least should have been. She is vulnerable and fragile and last night she hit yet another brick that put yet another crack in her already brittle framework. Yet another stupid boy had let her down, deceived her, made her feel unsafe. And she called me crying and intoxicated, not knowing exactly where she was and what to do next. She got a ride home from her dad (her mom’s boyfriend, not her sperm donor) and ended up sitting on my couch at 11 o’clock at night.

We talked for several hours.

I love this girl. I love her because I know where she is. I have been there and I know there is a way out. I love her because she is more intelligent than she gives herself credit for and more beautiful than she could possibly understand. This girl is a force of nature with a quick wit and a wicked temper and a habit of self-flagellation that breaks my heart. She is 20 years old and because she has been through hell, she expects that she should already know who the bad guys are and how to avoid them. And when she f*cks up as we inevitably do at the age of 20, she dives headfirst into a spiral of anger and self-hatred and despair.

I know that The Universe put us together for a reason. More than anything, I want Little Sister to look at me, at my life and where I am now and see that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. That even someone as royally screwed-up and damaged as we are can cut through the years of pain and bullsh*t and be happy someday.

But I remember 20. I remember how every time I got rejected or looked over or insulted or made to feel like nothing, it was the end of the world. I remember how no matter what anyone said to me about how this crap is just temporary, I just knew my world was over and I would never be right again.

And that’s where she’s at because no matter what I say or how I say it, she just doesn’t believe that things will work out eventually, doesn’t believe that she is worthy of being happy.

I guess she’ll get it eventually. I did.



3 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. blackcatsandbuttons
    Jun 02, 2012 @ 05:19:54

    Oh wow…you are a true friend. I too am an only the friendships I form are ones that run a lot deeper than most..or maybe that’s just my warped sense of friendship..either way..well done for being there for her..she’ll get it eventually. xxx


    • newlifeinvermont
      Jun 02, 2012 @ 08:26:11

      I find that I don’t have a lot of close friends, but the ones I do have I am fiercely loyal to. I think the thing that gets me about Little Sister is that she is so very much like me in so many ways, I just have this almost instinctual need to look out for her in the way I guess a big sister is supposed to. She just needs somebody who can say, “I’ve been there and I know it feels like you’re dying but you will make it through and be stronger because of it.”


  2. Trackback: I think I need some asprin… and a LOT of water. « newlifeinvermont

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