forgive me

it just makes sense today. listen, I'm not really sure of what I need to say. maybe I should start with that: forgive me, for everything that I didn't do and I should've, for everything that I shouldn't have done and I did. forgive me if I was never there, if I was this unaccessible and harsh and distant. I've been through a lot of downs lately and you turned out to be the biggest of them all. because I care, because I love you. you keep switching moods, picking up words and expressions that you repeat all day long, a hundred times an hour. and there I stand, me, who was suppose to know what to do always, who thought I had answers to every question, solution to every cause, overwhelmed by all your issues. hey honey, I know I'm far from the world-awarded best sister ever, I'm just working really hard not to be the worst. but you gotta understand... and yes, I know you just can't, you were not meant to understand, but this is all too hard on me. I realized that I won't be able to take care of you. I had imagined a million different situations where you and I would be together, me struggling, but you making it possible: we visiting friends and family, we going to painting classes, we jogging in some fancy park one day not that far. you just can't follow all those plans, instead, I'd have to be something like your sister, and your teacher and your nurse and your babysitter. I don't believe your father will ever be able to take care of you, and I'm almost, almost sure that your mother will never get back on her feet again. now, will young C or baby A take care of you if life, someday, gets a little easier? will we all together look after you, or will we assure that you'll never be left alone? that you'll never be thrown to some god forsaken's corner because your familly washed their hands off you? how will I proceed knowing you have no guarantees of happiness? it's getting worst D, you sure know that, I believe it's suppressing you now. your laughter is more nervous than ever, you're losing control of yourself, you keep your arms apart all day, as if you were a bird about to fly, you keep shaking your wings and clicking your fingers and that's how I see how unconfortable you are. you can't keep yourself confortable, you can't keep people around you confortable. that's what I feel, a mix of dispair and anguish when I realize that A, who's only 4 years old, is already more developped than you. how can it be? forgive me, but was god drunk when he set you up like this? when he set us all up? I'm not complainning of your behaviour, unfortunatly, the point is way beyond that... I'm asking what will become of you, what will become of us all, knowing somehow we couldn't make it, we didn't have the skills, we didn't have the patience, we didn't have the know-how, we didn't have the love, to keep you near and to keep you warm and fed and happy and confortable. I keep trying to remember if you were always like this... all I picture from our past are memories I'd rather forget. but yes, I don't remember you diferently. I only regret that I didn't love you from the first day, that you never felt the embrace of love around you, it's protection. this year you turned your back on the christmas presents, and you never received as many as now. you didn't take a second look at the sweaters, or the trainers, or the painting case, or the DVD's, or the book about those african prairies you used to talk about and I made grandma buy you. you're disconnecting, you're departing. you kept eating chocolates while I was telling you it could bring you stomach ache, you didn't want to sit next to me, or eat, or answer the questions people kept making you, or kiss your nephew's front, or touch him. I know it was weird to me to absorb it all so, how hard must it have been to you? you simply wasn't there, you were lost somewhere, and I have no idea of where your head takes you. again, what will become of you?

then, out of the blue, you just keep having this oversights of clairvoyance that make me feel even more guilty. sometimes I hope that you're not really here, that your mind is far, far away, on your dinos and your crocodiles, and your sharks and grease and looney tones. that's when you scare the crap of me... what if, behind your lost eyes, your flying wings, your unability to sit next to us, to communicate with us, you are there? what if you are watching the lousy job we're trying to do here to raise you? to love you and tolerate all of your flaws? they are so many... you can't keep yourself quiet and sitten of more than one  minute, usualy it doesn't take so long for you to wander the house caressing the faces of everyone and behind bahished of all the rooms after the millionth time you've touched our faces. after the millionth time we've told you, we've asked you, we've begged you not to. you can't focus on a book, or a movie, except grease, you don't draw when we're around, you tried to carry grandma on your arms. she shouts for help, the girls shout for help. I had to yell at you and you can only imagine how it felt to me. i was failling again, for there was no other option to stop you. even though, you kept doing the same. you start whispering words and you don't finish the sentences, when I say that I haven't heard you refuse to repeat, you shake your head, you laugh with no reason. you freak me out, and I love you, and I shouldn't. these are only five days, what would be of me if I had to carry you on my back for the rest of my life? don't get this wrong, but you may even outlive me, what would become of you then? I'm so sorry that I've realized that you can't count on me... no one upsets me like you do, no one moves me like you do. like when you asked if I have the habit of writting, it only last a moment, but you really seemed to know what you were talking about. then, today, I told you that you were bothering the girls and they would start to refuse your company and you stared seriously at me and I saw sadness flowing all around you, your eyes looked down, your constant smile faded, your hands stopped to shake, and you found my eyes again and you asked: no one likes me, isn't it?, as if it was as simple as the water having no color. and my heart fell to pieces, and what could I say? I was so broke, I was so exausted of you, I was so destroyed by the damages that cover you... I didn't deny it. I stood there, in silence, and kept drawing. Then, when I got home, you were already in bed, but still awake, and I went to get my drawing notebook and the pencil case when I saw you looking at me on the twilight and I had to sit on the bed and caress your shoulder. You hid your head under the sheet, I could only see your dark hair on your nape and I felt like, among every people in the world, you are the one who most need to be told that he's loved. so I told you. even though I've been telling it to the wrong people.

hope you fell asleep a little more confortable, my love. I have no idea of which toughts cross your mind before you fall asleep. I just need you to know that part of the agony you're trough, afflicts me too. and unfortunately, I hope at least part of it escapes you: you're so good, you have absolutely no wickedness, no malice, no second toughts, no hidden agendas. and I know you're suffering, I can't even imagine how much, you can't even express it... so do forgive me, like I said. for not even me, with this blessed brain I like to brag about, can understand the actual dimension of being you.

guess you put me in my place. guess love's just not enough.

[city and color - forgive me]