Monday, January 5, 2009

Why am I like this?


I don't understand why I let my feelings get hurt so often. I suppose you could say it stems from my "younger" days of trying so very very hard to make sure I got along with everyone; and for the most part I did. As I get older I've started to stop trying so hard, because it always seemed like I was the only one putting any effort into any relationship I had.

I have felt hurt because friends never call, because of the way I'm treated at work and right down to the heart of things: My Family. It's this last hurt I'm here to talk about today. I am the middle of 5 children, two older brothers, a younger sister and a younger brother. I'm sure I'll get to stories of the boys later, but for today it is my sister this little blurb is about.



I wish I were her. plain and simple, she's gorgeous and smart, tall and slim, writes like a dream and has had so many opportunities that I would kill for. Every time I'm around her I feel what few smart cells I have slipping away. What hurts me though, is whenever she's around me, I feel as though she's laughing at me. it's in her tone, her looks, everything. I love my little sister so much and I don't think she realizes how much she hurts me. I am jealous, lets be clear on that from the start. She's off on an amazing adventure studying abroad right now, partially because she is so damn smart, and partially because she was lucky enough to have my boyfriend co-signer for school. Sometimes I'm shallow enough to wish he had done it for me instead, so I could be getting the education at a "real" college like I've always wanted. I'm disgusted with myself for feeling that way.

There was once a time that she looked up to me, a time many years ago. I don't feel as though she cares anymore, I have driven her where she needs, picked her up and brought her to Florida. I would be there, here, anywhere in a heartbeat if she needed me to be. Yet, on her side I have been replaced with friends, which is fine. I know she doesn't talk to me like she used to, I just feel so lonely in my life right now. I have never felt so emotionally lost and miserable then I have lately, and it hurts to see her talk to others and not me. She is so so far away and has limited access to the Internet and phone, this I also know. But she had the time to leave word for others...why not me? never me. I wish I could understand why I need her to need me so much, to be a sister to me, to want me to be a sister to her...

2 comments:

  1. Oh Lovely Lady,
    You are not the only one who feels like this. She is just a person who needs others and so we need her to need us, in a heartbeat we would run to her and protect her, yet we feel like she wouldn't do the same. I know in my heart she would, but we can't seem to accept that someone so wonderful, so talented would ever want to help us.
    You are just as amazing as her, you are selfless and you are so awesome. I know where you are coming from. My own younger sister is beautiful, athletic, thin and so smart. She is so calm and collected and has so many friends and I am a stranger to her. I don't know what she dreams about, I don't know where she plans on going and yet I still love her fiercely and wonderfully.
    You deserve the best, and I hope you know that. As we wait patiently for Geeta to call us, we can call each other and support each other. I will call you tonight.
    You are You and I am so blessed that I have you as a friend and an older sister.

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  2. I would say the answer to your question is a simple one: You're a human being.

    We're not built to be perfect. Your sister isn't either. While you may lack in places where your sister excels, there are bound to be things you do better. You may not always think of them, or maybe you haven't discovered what those things are yet, but I can guarantee you it's a truth.

    If you push yourself to be perfect, you'll only fall into depair, as you will never achieve it. While we should all strive to be the best we can be, we should never strive for perfection; only a close comparison.

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